


Is This What You Want?

by ohgodmyeyes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: 420, 69, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anakin Has A Nice Dick, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Blowjobs, Chubby Anakin Skywalker, Chubby Kink, Dependency, Don't Like Don't Read, Escalating Fatassery, Eventual Immobility, Extreme Weight Gain, F/M, Fat Anakin Has Nice Tits, Fat Anakin Is Hot, Fat Anakin Skywalker, Feeding Kink, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, Happy Ending, Light Dom/sub, Light breathplay, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Porn, Public Displays of Affection & Kink, Reader-Insert, Self-Indulgent, Smut, Stuffing, Teasing, Weight Gain, fat kink, stretch marks, trash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:41:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 48,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23034157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohgodmyeyes/pseuds/ohgodmyeyes
Summary: Your sweet, beautiful boyfriend Anakin likes to stay up late and wait for you to come home from work. He also likes to eat to keep himself awake, though, and so he’s put on a few pounds lately.He is sure you’ll be upset when you notice, but fortunately, you love his new physique— and so does he.The two of you make a very pleasant habit of overindulging his appetite over a period of time, and this causes his weight gain to accelerate.Just how fat does Ani really want to get?Not abandoned! Updates soon!
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker/Reader
Comments: 206
Kudos: 270
Collections: Indescribably Delicious Fanfiction





	1. Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> This has basically no plot. It’s literally just fat porn. It's sexy and fluffy, with almost no conflict, and absolutely no angst. It's really just a happy place for me. ❤️
> 
> *Mind the tags, though! The further you read, the fatter he gets, and it doesn’t stop.

He looked so sweet laying there— he _always_ looked so sweet laying there.

You’d been living with Anakin for a little over a year; in that time, you had come to understand that he had a rather endearing habit of falling asleep on the couch. He’d do it waiting up for you when you were late coming home from work, which was frequently, as of late. You liked that he wanted to stay up for you... and you liked that he slept with his shirt off, too.

You loved Ani for lots of reasons, but it would have been dishonest to try to deny that one of them was the fact that he was very nice to look at. You had always enjoyed gazing at him, and as the months had gone by, you’d both become quite comfortable with the way you sometimes liked to stare. He liked to stare at you too, of course... but to look at him truly was a delectable treat: You knew exactly how lucky you were.

Tonight he was leaning back against the arm of the sofa: He had one leg stretched across the cushions, and the other was hanging over the edge, planted less-than-firmly upon the floor. His arms were limp at his sides— he’d even fallen asleep wearing the one of them that happened to be an artificial cybernetic replacement, which told you that he had definitely intended to stay up.

He hadn’t been able to, though, in spite of the fact that he’d clearly made an effort: The television was playing music, there were empty iced coffee bottles paired with a depleted food container on the floor, and the lights were still turned on.

That all made you smile, but what made you smile even more was the not-so-subtle evidence of his apparently having stayed up doing this for you a _lot_ recently: You couldn’t help but observe that Anakin’s previously well-toned abdomen was starting to become considerably less so.

You’d noticed it here and there over the past few weeks; hadn’t said anything, because you weren’t sure whether he had registered it himself or not— and anyway, you weren’t quite certain as to how you might communicate that you rather liked it. You did know that when he was staying up to wait for you, he tended to clear out the refrigerator, and use that iced coffee he liked to try to remain conscious. Again, tonight it hadn’t worked... and for all his effort, he seemed only to have earned himself a small belly where the lower portion of his astonishingly hard six-pack abs used to be.

It was soft and full, and although it was not all that big, it did contrast delightfully with the rest of him. It rounded out adorably just below his bellybutton (which you’d always liked to play with anyhow), and poked out pleasantly above the waistband of the black sweatpants he almost always wore when he was home with you.

You liked to look at it, so you did; then, you said his name, but he didn’t stir. You set down your things, and walked over to him slowly; quietly. 

“Ani?”

Nothing. You sat down very gingerly on the edge of the couch, beside his stretched-out leg. He remained still, so you took your time looking him over. He’d always been beautiful, from the perfect handsomeness of his features, to the hardness of his biceps, to the broadness of his chest... and somehow, now, the incongruity between the new softness of his stomach and the rest of him was incredibly charming as well. 

Since he was so peaceful, you smiled to yourself and reached your hand out; maybe a bit sneakily. As gently as you could muster, you pressed the very tips of your fingers into his achingly smooth, newly-pliant flesh. He shifted, but only minutely, so you slowly and carefully placed the whole of your palm on his abdomen, and rubbed a slow circle around the centre of it. You let your hand slide around to the side, too, so that you could squeeze a small, fresh lovehandle; however, not before letting your fingernail catch his navel. 

That made him shift his hips, but he still didn’t wake up. You were seeing just how far you could press your thumb into the flesh immediately above his waistband when you noticed something else that made you grin: A familiar, protruding hardness from between his legs, making itself very obvious through the fabric of his pants. You weren’t sure whether it was your attention making his cock stiff, or whether it was simply that he was on the verge of wakefulness... but, whatever had caused it, it certainly had your interest.

You reached out with your other hand (the one which wasn’t rubbing his belly), and placed it atop that enticing firmness; squeezed. He made a noise, finally— something like a quiet moan— but his eyes still remained shut. Feeling somewhat emboldened, you lowered your head very slowly and let your lips brush up against the skin on his stomach, just beside where you’d planted your palm. That definitely did make his cock twitch, so you pressed a few kisses into his flesh as well. You couldn’t help but nip at the sweet little ridge of fat poking out above his pants; however, even that didn’t wake him.

His cock was unbearably hard by now. You knew (because you knew Anakin) that the head of it was already leaking tiny droplets of his essence, and that it was as hungry for you to lick them up as you were to experience the taste of them. So— again, as gently as you could— you pulled your head back and grasped the waistband of his pants with your hands. Slowly, you shimmied the garment over both his hips and his dick, freeing him. You’d been right about the slick sheen coating his head.

If staying up to wait for you to come home made him hungry, then running your hands over the evidence of his nighttime overindulgence while you stared at his stiff, wet cock did just the same for you. You looked up at his face, first— and although he didn’t seem quite as _relaxed_ as he had when you’d first walked in, he certainly still looked content... and, he was still asleep. 

So, you lowered your head once again, but instead of kissing stomach, this time you enveloped his erection with your mouth. You tried to keep yourself from going too quickly; licked up what he’d already leaked out, then eased him over your tongue and past your back teeth, until your lips were wrapped greedily around his base.

Another little moan escaped him, but other than that, there was still no deliberate movement from any part of his body. You replaced one of your hands on his belly; cupped his balls gently with the other, and began to bob your head up and down slowly as you sucked on him, and licked his shaft.

Because you couldn’t help yourself, you started to rub circles into his stomach again. You let your fingers trail over the smooth, plush roundness near the bottom, and you toyed some more with his bellybutton, too— which, somehow, was even more fun now that he had packed a bit of extra weight in behind it. You found that you had loved grabbing at his side because it had been an effective way to get a real handful of him... so, you did that again now, too.

It was delightful; however, you might have squeezed a bit too hard: You heard him draw in a sharp breath; felt the still-adept muscles resting behind his attractive new layer of flesh get tense. You kept your mouth on his cock, but looked up at him as best you could; saw that his eyes had, in fact, opened.

He shifted and looked down at you: Sleepy; confused. Not only were you sucking his cock and massaging his sack, but you also happened to have a very firm grip on the fleshiest part of a belly you weren’t even sure he’d realized he had yet. For some reason, this made you squeeze him harder. You made a noise through your mouthful of his cock which you hoped sounded innocent; then, you began to move your head again.

He groaned much more loudly this time, and you could feel his hand travel to the back of your head as he started to buck his hips upward. You let go of his lovehandle in favour of rubbing him with your palm some more; to your surprise, he responded very favourably to that: He grasped desperately at your hair, and stiffened in your mouth even further. 

Since he was clearly awake now, you tightened your hold on his sack and sped up your rhythm. You savoured the throbbing of his veins; the droplets of sticky, salty desire which were now coating every part of your tongue. You pressed your hand into the new and ample flesh on his belly; relished the way it yielded to the pressure you applied, and the way your touching it seemed to make him react.

_”Fuck!”_

Finally, a discernible word from Anakin— and then he pushed your head down with more force than he’d likely intended, pulsed one final time, and burst excitedly into the back of your throat as he let out a grateful, hearty yell. You yelled, too (albeit through a very full mouth) as you swallowed hungrily a part of himself he had apparently been quite eager to give you. 

Once you’d sucked him as dry as you could have hoped to, you rose back up into a seated position, still facing Ani. You used one hand to wipe up a little bit of him which had dribbled out the side of your mouth; smiled as you left the other planted on the small, pleasant bulge of his stomach. You stroked him with your thumb as you watched him wake more thoroughly.

Finally, he shook off the last of his sleepiness; sat up a bit better, and tucked himself back into his pants as you let your hand leave him. 

“Welcome home, I guess?”

You laughed, “I feel pretty welcome.” Then, “...Were you trying to stay up for me again, Ani?”

He stretched; yawned. “...It didn’t work, did it?”

“Not really... but, I like the way I found you anyway,” you said to him.

He scooted a little closer to you; reached out with his left arm to put it around your back as he did so. He must have noticed you noticing the way his midsection bulged as he shifted about, because his face seemed to redden as he appeared to register the direction of your gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” he said a bit sheepishly. He glanced at what he’d left on the floor; then, “I didn’t exactly leave you a lot to eat; if you’re hungry, I can—”

“—Hey, it’s okay,” you interrupted him gently. You leaned in; he tightened his hold on you. You kissed his jaw as you said into his ear, “I’ll make something for the both of us.”

He was the one who laughed this time; answered, “You know I already ate, right?”

“Well, are you still hungry?” You’d moved onto nibbling his earlobe by now; you’d also put your hand back on his belly and begun to toy with his navel, as you had always liked. 

He gasped; dug his fingers into you. If you went ahead and fed him, you thought, he might be ready to play with you again when he was finished eating. You’d have an even more delectable stomach to rub, and you knew that he would be eager to return the favour you’d just done him as well. You were especially looking forward to that.

After seeming to get caught up in your touch for a few moments, he finally answered you, “...I think I am.” He said it eagerly; sensuously, and with the faintest note of embarrassment. Afterward, he added, “...What did you have in mind, exactly?”

As you ran your hand around his side to squeeze him there again, “I was thinking that I could make us both dessert, and that we could take it upstairs together.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked a bit incredulously, as he pulled back to look at your face. He was grinning, now.

“It’s not the _only_ thing I want,” you told him slyly, and you began to rise from the sofa to go into the kitchen. Happily, you tugged Anakin up along with you.

“Well, what else do you want, then?” He stood, too; wrapped his arm around you again, but pulled you in more closely this time. You pressed your body up against his; enjoyed the way he felt as you ran your hand down his side.

“I think this is a perfect opportunity to _show_ you what else I want,” you said to him, and you finally pulled yourself away so that you could lead him out of the room. You felt excited, because you really did love the way his body had changed over the past little while— after all, it had changed primarily in response to his desire to be with you. That new little belly of his suited him, really: It was incredibly romantic.

Perhaps communicating your appreciation to him would not prove to be such a challenging endeavour after all.


	2. Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roses are red 
> 
> Violets are blue
> 
> Life is hell 
> 
> So I wrote this weird porn for you 
> 
> ❤️

“Is that good?” You asked as you pulled the fork back sensuously out of Ani’s mouth. 

He swallowed the bite of cake you’d just fed him; smiled. “It’s perfect,” he said, as he leaned forward on the bed to be closer to you. You were sitting up, facing one another— and you’d both long since shed your clothes.

You leaned in a bit more closely, too; asked your next question right into his ear, “Do you like being fed, Anakin?” You gathered another generous forkful of cake as you waited for his answer.

 _”I love it,”_ he told you, and he surprised you by reaching down to grasp your wrist. He guided your hand; had you feed him the next bite.

“I guess I can tell,” you laughed. Then, after watching him eat, you leaned in to kiss him because you couldn’t resist any longer. You set down the fork beside you, atop the bed on a mostly-empty plate which had once held an entire cake— your favourite kind; his favourite too, apparently, because he’d had no problem whatsoever nearly finishing it for you.

He kissed you back, deeply and passionately. He tasted fantastic— amongst the sugary icing and the cake itself there was another flavour with which you were intimately familiar; one that belonged only to him. It mingled deliciously with the sweetness of the late-night snack you’d both decided he was in the mood for. You couldn’t be happier to have helped him eat it.

When you finally pulled away, you picked up the plate; put it on a table beside the bed. Once it was safely out of the way, you crept back up to Anakin; placed a hand on either side of his waist. You gave his new lovehandles a little squeeze. He gasped; raised his left hand to touch your face. He was grinning, but his cheeks were flushed. He clearly never could have guessed that you’d want to do this with him.

“I thought you’d be mad at me,” he said. He almost sounded nervous, which you weren’t used to at all.

“Why would I be mad at you?” You nuzzled his hand; you loved Anakin’s touch.

“For getting fat,” he told you, as though he thought it should have been obvious.

You laughed, because you could _never_ have gotten upset with him over something as inconsequential as that. You said as much; added, “Anyway, you’re hardly _fat_ ,” as you slid one of your hands around to the front of his little belly; jiggled it with your palm. 

It made him chuckle, too. His face was still pink. “What would you call it, then?” He motioned downward with his eyes, and used his highly-advanced, bionic right hand to poke himself in the stomach just beside where you’d taken your handful of him. 

You kissed him on the side of his mouth, squeezed him again, and answered, “I’d call it sexy, Ani.” 

That was when you noticed his cock starting to get hard again, so you used the hand which had been squeezing his side to reach down and grasp it gently. It twitched in your palm; stiffened up a little further.

He gasped, so you asked him sweetly, “...You like it, too, don’t you?”

He stroked your cheek with his thumb, but looked down at the bedsheets for a moment instead of at your face; paused. When he looked back up at you, it was with utmost seriousness. You hadn’t expected that. As he stared intently with those beautiful, icy eyes of his, he said to you in an uncharacteristically quiet voice, “...I like it a lot, but...”

“...But?” You loved _this_ , but you loved Ani more, and you were always concerned about the way he felt.

“...But you know how I feel about control, don’t you?”

You did. Anyone who knew him did, really— Anakin exuded a great quantity of very powerful (sometimes not-so-positive) energy; he had ever since you’d met him, and he tended to put a lot into keeping himself balanced. It would make perfect sense for him to be a bit frightened of something which might threaten the tight hold he typically maintained on himself... and on his body.

“I do,” you said. “Are you afraid of letting go of it?”

“Yes,” he admitted. You loved that he felt he could be so honest with you.

You kissed his hand as it cupped your face; reassured him, “It’s okay to let go of things sometimes, you know.”

He smiled, then. “...It’s not exactly easy to do.”

You squeezed his cock in your hand, and hooked the thumb of your other into his navel as you confirmed, “I know it’s not easy. _But_... what if I helped you?” You always liked to help Anakin... when he’d let you, anyway.

“...Would you help me like _that_...?” He sounded doubtful, but you knew he’d always had trouble trusting people; even people with whom he was very close.

“Of course I would,” you said. “ _I love you_. And... well, it could be a lot of fun, couldn’t it?”

The redness returned to his cheeks; he smiled anxiously as he lowered his hand from your face, and placed it warmly atop the one you’d been resting on his belly. “...Exactly how fat are you going to let me get?”

You tugged gently on his cock. “How fat do you _want_ to get?”

He moaned softly and squeezed your hand, which made it press alluringly into his flesh. Breathlessly, he answered, “I think that’s up to you now, isn’t it?”

You began to pump him slowly with your fist; you could feel him start to drip onto your palm. You wouldn’t ever have believed how much he loved this if you hadn’t been holding the evidence of it in your hand. You knew Anakin well enough to know how much strength it had taken him to give up the power he’d just granted you; you were determined to use it to make you both happy.

You took your hand off of his belly as he started to buck into your other fist; you loved the way it seemed to stick out so dramatically, after your having fed him dessert. You stared unreservedly, now; after all, you knew that you no longer had to hide your love of his newly-altered physique.

“Do you really want this, Ani?” You asked partly because you truly wanted to be sure; partly, too, because you wanted the pleasure of hearing his response.

“Ah... _fuck_...” He squeezed his eyes shut as more sticky tendrils leaked onto your hand; then, he looked down at what he’d done to himself waiting for you to come home. After that, he gazed back up at your face. With an undeniable desperation in his both his eyes and his voice, “...Yes. _Yes,_ I want it.” He almost seemed to beg— it was so unlike him; however, it was incredibly intriguing.

You replaced your free hand on him at that; grabbed once more at one of those sweet, beautiful lovehandles of his, and squeezed it hungrily. He made a noise; almost a whimper, but his cock throbbed in your palm. You could feel yourself dripping now, too— you’d been aching for release for a while; however, you hadn’t wanted this to end.

“I love you,” you reminded him. “And I promise to take _very_ good care of you.” You said this as you gave him another little jiggle, because you loved how that felt. “...Alright?”

Instead of answering, he pressed his lips onto yours; gave you another wonderful taste of himself mixed with what he’d let you feed him. You released your handful of his flesh in favour of going back to his bellybutton; you traced lines around that with your index finger, and covered it warmly with your palm as he brought his hand to the back of your head so that he could play with your hair. His bionic prosthesis he placed on your hip; made it squeeze you gently. You gasped, this time.

“I trust you,” he said, as he broke your kiss.

“Thank you,” you told him, because you truly were grateful. In spite of your gratitude, however, you couldn’t help yourself. You asked him next, “...Will you lie down for me, then, Ani?”

“...Sure,” he said, and you let go of his cock as he shifted to begin to do as you’d asked. “...What for, though?”

You smiled; hoped you didn’t look altogether too eager as you answered him, “You look like you need a belly-rub.” He really did, though— particularly now.

The same sheepish grin from when he’d noticed you noticing him on the sofa spread across his face. “...Oh. I guess that would be nice, wouldn’t it?” And he lay flat on his back on the bed, with his head on the pillow.

You crawled up the length of his legs to lay beside him, but you stopped when you reached his midsection. You couldn’t quite believe how much more his belly stuck out right now than it normally did; however, he _had_ both cleared out your fridge, and eaten nearly an entire cake that evening.

You couldn’t help but take a minute to marvel at how impressive that was in itself; however, you also felt a strong, immediate urge to follow through with your offer of a proper belly-rub— so, you raised a hand and planted it at the centre of his torso; pressed down gently as you began to massage wide circles around his navel. 

Even laying back, the lower portion of his middle was delightfully soft, and lots of fun to knead with your fingertips. The higher up you ran your hand, the firmer it became, between the remnant of his visible six-pack and the ridiculous amount of food he’d consumed that evening. The whole thing protruded beautifully, and you couldn’t get enough of the way he felt beneath your hand.

He moaned very softly, and eventually you were overcome with another sudden hunger— a bit different from his, but not entirely, really. You propped yourself up, and much as you’d done when Ani had been sleeping, you let your lips brush up gently against his skin. Again, you could feel him tense up beneath that wonderful, new layer of flesh you couldn’t seem to stop admiring. The gentle glances from your lips once more turned into kisses; finally, you allowed your tongue to come out and explore his navel the same way your fingers had done so many times before.

At the sensation of your tongue, it seemed he couldn’t help but become a little louder in his expressions of appreciation: He called out, and since you’d crawled up on his right side, you witnessed his left hand shoot down to his dick; he couldn’t help himself anymore, it seemed. You were thrilled at how very positively he was responding to the attention you were giving him; however, you wanted the fun of lapping him up again. 

You lifted your head; looked up at him. “Hey, you,” you said. “Can I have some more of that?”

He smirked back down at you in return, “Only if you have a little something for me, too.”

You knew very well what he actually meant, but you teased him anyway, “Oh? Are you _still_ hungry?”

He laughed, then; grasped your arm to tug you the rest of the way up his body to meet him for a kiss. “So what if I am?” he asked you.

“So,” you said, “I just wish you’d told me sooner.” You did kiss, then, while you resumed stroking his stomach with your fingers. You couldn’t help but grasp a handful of the perfect softness close to the bottom of it; however, this made him thrust his hips some more and groan pleadingly into your mouth. You glanced down; could see— even over that protruding belly— his cock standing tall, and wet.

He drew back from you just far enough to whisper, “I can hardly move, you know...”

You understood. “Alright,” you told him, smiling. “I’ll bring some to you.” 

Then, you kissed him once more before turning yourself skillfully around so that you could enjoy Anakin’s cock some more at the same time as he was finally able to begin to lick and suck at the slick swelling between your own legs. You were careful not to place altogether too much weight on his belly; after all, it was incredibly full... and apparently quite sensitive, too.

As it turned out, you were correct in your earlier evaluation: He had, indeed, been very eager to return the favour with which you’d woken him earlier. With the length of time you’d been worked-up over him, it didn’t take long at all for Ani to bring you to a shuddering, grateful climax; one, again, not unlike the one you’d imposed on him before.

You bucked into his face as you hummed through a fresh mouthful his length, grasped at the sweet, plush flesh padding his side, and squeezed your eyes shut as you showed him, tangibly, how he’d made you feel. It was hard and deep, and it seemed as though you’d waited forever for it.

He must have loved being able to taste your desire for him, because he went off again, then, too. There was a little bit less to lick up this time; however, you sucked back every last bit of what was there appreciatively. You couldn’t believe that you’d had the good fortune to taste him twice tonight— among getting to do a few other things, too, of course.

You slid off of him, turned your body once more, and crawled back up to meet him at the head of the bed again. He was still breathing hard; you could see his chest rise and fall... and his stomach, too, which looked more enticingly beautiful than ever in its fullness, now that it was also coated in a thin sheen of sweat. You crept up very closely; as you kissed his neck and goosebumps broke out over his skin, he looked over at you. You’d just begun to let your fingertips trace needy lines into his belly in your sleepiness. 

Finally he asked you almost just as you’d asked him, “So... this is really what you want?”

“Yes, Ani,” you murmured. To let him know you meant it, you sank your hand into his flesh and told him in no uncertain terms, “This is _really_ what I want.”

He breathed in deeply; he truly seemed to love for you to touch him this way. You were glad, because you were looking forward to more of it... along with the pleasure of feeding him, and maybe watching him grow. He’d asked you earlier, but you really weren’t sure how fat you were going to let him get... right now you were simply happy that he didn’t seem to mind getting that way; particularly, that he wanted your assistance with it.

He gazed at you with his lovely eyes; he was tired, but you could tell that he meant it when he informed you of his body (and by extension his senses of both control and satisfaction), “It’s yours, then.”

That meant a lot to you, because you knew it meant a lot to him. “I won’t let you down, Ani,” you told him, and you wouldn’t. You loved Anakin. You loved his form, too, and the gift of dominion over it which he’d given you was one of the finest you’d ever received. As you snuggled up to him that night, you realized just how fervent you were in your desire to have another opportunity to try out the new power he was allowing you wield for him.

This, you thought, really was going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re extremely put-off by this for whatever reason, I’ll try to keep it all tucked away in here so you can easily avoid it. Where tf did they find a whole fucking cake, anyway?
> 
> There’s no actual plot to this, and I’ll probably only update it sporadically. _But,_ I’ll leave it marked unfinished for now... since apparently (by some weird miracle) someone other than me wants fat Anakin vignettes. 🤷
> 
> ***IMAGINE ANAKIN SAYING ‘FAT’ THE SAME WAY HE SAYS ‘HOT’ WHEN HE CRASHLANDS THE SHUTTLE.
> 
> you will go off in your pants.


	3. Bad Day

“Are you feeling any better, now?” 

“Hm?” Anakin had tilted his head back; closed his eyes. He had a smile on his face, now, but you thought you’d ask anyway.

“You said you had a bad day at work, remember?”

“Oh!” 

He opened his eyes; looked down at you. You were nestled closely together, having just enjoyed dinner at one of your favourite restaurants. It was Italian, with very generous portions of pasta, and intimate booths in which you could sidle up close to your date. You did this now as you fed him tiramisu with one hand, and drew lines with the fingers on your other over his chest; across his belly. He was delightfully full, and also happened to be wearing a very nice shirt: You were enjoying slipping your fingers into the small spaces between the buttons going down the front of it; it was incredible to get to feel the warmth of his skin like that as you helped him eat.

He leaned over eagerly to take the bite of dessert you’d been holding on your fork before answering into your ear, “You know what, I must be feeling better— I’d forgotten about it completely.”

You laughed as you gathered some more for him; said, “That’s exactly what I was hoping this would do for you,” and pressed your fingers softly into his flesh as he ate that, too.

“Thank you,” he told you once he’d finished. Affectionately, he placed his arm around you. Then, he kissed your ear and whispered quietly, “This is why I love you, you know.”

“I love you too, Ani,” you said, and you put down the fork so that you could use your hand to reach up and stroke his hair. It was falling into his face a little bit, and it shone a beautiful shade of amber in the ambient lighting provided by the restaurant’s interior. You left your other hand on his stomach, because you loved to have it there as much as he did.

It hadn’t been _too_ long since your wonderful night in bed with that cake, but it had been long enough that Ani’s midsection seemed to have had time to fill out just a bit more in response to your newfound, mutual passion. It was more chronically rounded, now; the upper portion of those once highly-visible abs had all but disappeared. He hadn’t been clothes shopping yet; however, what he owned was beginning to fit him significantly more snugly.

Right now he looked as though opening his belt would have been a relief; alas, you were still out in public. You found his navel through his shirt anyhow; fingered it, which made him gasp. He’d had a lot to eat that night; so much that the firmness behind it was close to unyielding. You found yourself craving a handful of that soft, fleshy part of his belly you knew was very close to being able to hang carelessly over the waistband of his pants.

“Do you think we should head home soon?” you asked. You truly couldn’t wait to undress him— free him.

He’d closed his eyes again, by then, and had buried his nose in your hair. He seemed to have become distracted. Slowly, he sat back up straight and answered you, “...I think we probably should.”

After settling your bill (you left your hand planted on Ani’s belly while you did, drawing a curious look from your server), you departed the restaurant and set off into the night for home. You had both been drinking, so you took the train, but you hadn’t quite anticipated the exercise in restraint that riding it would turn out to be.

“I love being alone here with you,” you said. You really did love having a train car to yourself with Anakin; the two of you always stood the way you were standing now: You with your arms linked around his waist, as he supported the both of you by hanging with his natural hand onto the steel overhead bar which ran along the ceiling. He’d always been more than strong enough to hold you both up, even through the rough stops-and-starts of the train— and that certainly had not changed.

You squeezed him tightly, now, as you felt the train hit a series of bumps. He tensed himself— all of himself— and you smiled as you pushed your body into his. You relished being held firmly in place by him; savoured the unique sensation of the lovely bulge of his stomach being thrust against you by the musculature packed in behind it. His shirt had come mostly untucked by now; although he wasn’t putting too much strain on his buttons (yet), you could see very plainly through its fabric the outline of the dinner you’d just shared. You also couldn’t help but notice a few places around his torso where it seemed to pull at him bit differently than it used to; you loved that.

He grunted softly as you loosened your grip on him; the turbulence had ended, for the moment. Aside from having mostly come loose of his pants, his shirt was also already partially unbuttoned; to about the middle of his chest... so, you began to kiss at his collarbone. While you did, you slipped your hand up underneath his shirt; kneaded at the lower portion of his belly. You smiled to yourself as you heard him inhale sharply; he hadn’t expected to feel your fingers press against his bare skin.

You heard him chuckle once he’d regained his composure; he asked you, “What are you doing?”

“I told you,” you said. “I like being alone with you on the train.” Then, you slipped your hand a bit farther up his shirt, found one of his nipples, and gave it a gentle tweak between your thumb and forefinger. He made another noise, so you ran your hand back down the length of his torso, drawing away from him just enough so that you could sneak it between your bodies to play with his navel for a few moments. Then, you continued on down to feel at the buckle on his belt; however, not before running your fingers once more along the beautifully well-rounded bulge just above it. You couldn’t get enough of that; you’d been yearning to touch him like this since dinner.

He tightened his grip on the bar above you as though he were afraid he might falter, put his right arm around you, and cupped the back of your head with his artificial hand while he used its fingers to play with your hair. You loved for Ani to play with your hair— with either one of his hands. 

“I like it too,” he said. “But if you make me let go, we’re both going to fall down.”

“So don’t let go,” you said. You smiled at him; slid your arm around to his back (you left your hand under his shirt; his warmth felt exquisite) and pushed your body into his once more. Then, you kissed at the skin revealed by his open shirt; drew another sound out of the back of his throat.

You could feel his voice through your lips pressed onto his neck as he countered, “That’s easier said than done,” to which you scratched at his back very gently with your nails.

“I have an idea,” you told him. He gave you a look; you continued, “Try _really hard_ not to let go, alright?”

“What?”

“You heard me,” you laughed, and you retrieved your hand from around his back to begin unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way.

“What are you—?”

“Shh,” you said, and you finished revealing his chest, and his belly. He couldn’t let go of the overhead bar with his left hand, and there wasn’t much he could do to resist you with his right. You glanced up at his face; saw that it had flushed a bright shade of pink. You placed your hand on his side; ran it down to where his belt began to constrict one of those pretty lovehandles you liked to squeeze. You did squeeze him there, then; dared to dig your nails right into him, because you knew he liked it. “Does that feel good?” you asked.

“Ah... _yes_ ,” he breathed, “but I don’t think—”

“—Don’t think at all,” you interrupted him kindly. “ _Just hang on tight._ Okay?”

“Okay, but...”

Before he could say any more, you grasped him on either side of his newly-exposed midsection, and knelt down to lick at his bellybutton with your tongue. This made him thrust his hips forward, of course, and he’d already been hard for a little while... so, you finally lowered a hand to begin to finger his erection gently through his pants. You continued to hold onto his side tightly with the other; listened happily to the noises he made.

Shakily, he said your name; reminded you through halting breaths that you only had a few minutes until the train reached the next station. You answered by wrapping your fingers as best you could around his length, and pumping it as well as you could manage through his pants. The friction must have had an effect on him; he cried out, and when he bucked his hips this time, you were treated to a faceful of the belly you’d just filled with an incredibly romantic dinner.

The train hit a bump as you were sucking on the bottom of his navel, which made your teeth clip him by mistake. He throbbed in your hand, then, as he came close to stumbling, and you knew for certain that the head of his cock was becoming slick. As you completed tracing a circle with your tongue into a perfect little spot just above where his belt buckle was digging into him, you ran your hand up his body as far as it could go. You grasped eagerly at his chest; scratched at him with your nails as the car moved back-and-forth.

When it settled, you pulled your head away from his belly to look around yourself. The space around you was still entirely empty; there wasn’t a sign of anyone else... and you knew that the security cameras situated inside of these trains were not as closely or frequently monitored as they ought to have been. You smiled to yourself, and grasped the end of Ani’s belt; tugged it free of the buckle.

He said your name once more through a sound you knew denoted relief, and then looked down at you with nervous excitement writ on his face. 

“Is this okay?” you asked, because you knew you should.

He looked up and around himself, then, too. After re-establishing the integrity of his grip on the bar above his head, he placed his bionic hand on your shoulder, looked back down at you, and nodded.

With a grin, you pushed the ends of his belt out of your way, and proceeded to unfasten the button on his pants. They were tight enough that it was difficult to hook your finger into them; however, you did, and soon you were able to reach through the fly built into his shorts to free his cock the same way you’d freed his stomach. He moaned, you wrapped your hand around his base, and then you began to lick at the wetness you knew had been waiting for you on his head.

His knees almost buckled; however, you reached up and took a firm hold of his lovehandle again. A sharp, sensuous squeeze seemed to straighten him back up; his right hand gripped your shoulder as tightly as you knew he could make it. Once you were sure he’d fully recovered from the initial shock of your admittedly very bold attention, you took him into your mouth completely. He’d clearly been aching for it, because he shouted and pulsed atop your tongue as you eased him all the way to the back of your throat; swallowed hungrily at his tip.

He rewarded you with tiny bursts of that sticky, salty proof of how much he loved to have you taste him, and you clutched the bottom of his shaft with one hand along with a generous handful of his flesh in the other as you began to move your head up and down in a quick rhythm. You closed your eyes; moaned through his cock as you felt a hot, needy desire begin to rise inside of yourself as well. He bucked into your face and continued to make delightful noises as the train turned a gentle corner.

Then— it seemed very sudden— there was an announcement over the loudspeaker: A notification that your arrival at the next station was imminent.

You removed your mouth from Ani’s dick; he groaned as the cool air hit it, but you tucked it back into his pants as gently and swiftly as you possibly could. You tugged his zipper back up carefully over his erection; however, getting that top button done up again was beyond what you could do with so little time (and so much of Anakin) to work with. You settled for sloppily re-fastening his belt atop it as snugly as was possible under the circumstances, and stood up hastily to try to pull him the rest of the way together.

You grinned at one another as the train pulled into the station, having realized that there was no time to get his shirt buttoned back up before the doors opened. You clung to him as the brakes came on; he held the both of you in place as the car jolted. You could feel both his belly and his cock pressing into you, and when you kissed his neck you noticed that he had begun to sweat with how very close he'd been to going off in your mouth.

As the doors began to open and you noticed the glances the two of you were receiving from the people scattered about the platform, he leaned forward and whispered into your ear, “Follow me— we’re getting off here.”

“What? Our stop isn’t for—”

“—I know,” he cut you off. “But, I cant wait anymore. We _have_ to get off here.”

“Where are you...?”

“Just follow me,” he said. “The doors are about to close.” They were.

“Okay,” you agreed, as a heady mixture of hesitation and excitement permeated your mind. You knew what was outside of this station, and there was nowhere that you thought would be an appropriate place for Anakin to fulfill his current (and apparently quite pressing) need... however, when Ani told you that he absolutely could not wait for something, you knew better than to doubt him. You followed him out; watched with fresh anticipation as his shirt flew wide open in the strong breeze that whipped through the tunnel.

You had no idea where he was taking you, but you absolutely loved that you’d been able to get him worked-up enough that he felt he had no choice but to take you there. 

You grasped his hand; let him lead you outside. You walked off together in the direction of wherever that place happened to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next update I post is going to be to a real story, I fucking swear.
> 
> But, if you’re reading the A/N on chapter three (three!) of _this_ , then you’re as into it as I am and you don’t have a leg to stand on.


	4. Fat & Horny

“ _Ah!_ We can’t do this here!”

“Yes we can,” insisted Ani. “This bus hasn’t been running for weeks; nothing’s going to pull in right now.”

He’d just finished deftly undoing your pants one-handed, had pushed them down over your hips, and was now using an ideal combination of his unique warmth and skill to dissolve your apprehension. You thrust yourself forward into him much as he had into you only minutes before; groaned and leaked, and ended up having to lean up against the brick wall behind you for support as your knees started to give out. He seemed, in his own playful way, to be getting you back for your conduct on the train... and although you were now in a large, empty tunnel where people normally stood and waited for buses just above the platform for the trains, you were finding your own resolve crumbling.

As he continued to work his magic with that wonderful hand he’d been given by nature, he put his lips to your ear and with a smile he whispered, “Anyway, you’re the one who’s doing this to me.”

As you continued to buck and breathe in response to his touch you asked him, “Doing what to you, Ani?”

He laughed softly as he adjusted his contact with you in a specific, incredibly intoxicating way. It was a trick you’d only ever known Anakin to be able to perform on you, and it made your breath catch in your throat as he answered you, _”Making me fat and horny.”_

You reached out your hand to grab at his hip; his shirt was still open, and his stomach was still protruding magnificently from out of it. As you pressed your thumb into the softest of the flesh at his side, his breath tickling your ear combined with the content of his words to push you over the edge. Only Anakin could make you peak so effectively— and although he left his hand on you for a moment as you caught your breath, he soon raised it to lick you off of himself.

As you let your hand fall from him and leaned against the wall, you answered him, “Making you fat makes me horny.”

After thoroughly enjoying the taste of what he’d done to you, he pressed his body into yours and told you, “And you have no idea how happy that makes _me._ ”

You reached down between his legs, and felt that persistent hardness you’d foisted on him not long before. It had been incredibly generous, you thought, for him to allow you some release before having you continue what you’d begun with him— but, then, Ani knew very well by now what sucking on his dick after tonguing his delicious bellybutton for a while did to you... and you knew he loved you too much to leave you hanging. 

Likewise, you loved Anakin and you weren’t about to let him suffer any longer, regardless of your current location: You kissed him, then; savoured the last remaining taste of that fantastic dessert he’d so graciously allowed you to put inside of him. You placed one hand on each side of the bulging proof of your now not-so-private, shared joy; stroked him with your thumbs. You let one hand travel down to the lower part of his belly; cupped the plush, perfect flesh there with your hand. You’d done his belt up as tightly as you could manage just below the bottom of his stomach. Although you loved the way the buckle pinched his flesh and made him bulge, you knew by how desperate his cock felt through his pants that he needed you to free him.

You tugged on the end of the strap again; pulled it loose of its brass eye. You could feel new arousal rising up inside yourself despite what Ani had just drawn out of you as you heard him sigh at the relief. You’d steadied yourself again by then, so you knelt down the same way you had on the train... but this time, you did not hesitate or look around yourself before taking his cock out into your hand. He groaned and flexed, which made his belly bob subtly, but delightfully. You used your other palm to begin to rub a circle around his navel the way you loved most.

The volume of what you’d fed him made his stomach feel quite firm; however, you still managed to give him a lovely little jiggle as your palm passed over the centre of his midsection. He gasped at that, and leaked into your hand. You smiled and pumped his length; looked up at him. While you did, you tugged at the bottom of his bellybutton with the nail on your index finger. 

The look of desperation in his eyes, the beads of sweat making stray strands of his hair begin to stick to his brow, and the way his chest and stomach were both beginning to heave with his quickening breaths were all utterly enrapturing. You got completely caught up staring at him; surveying his perfection as you toyed with your favourite parts of his body.

You must have gotten caught up for too long, because soon you felt him tug at your hair. You refocused your vision on his face; he was so handsome in the erotic distress in which you’d wound him up. He begged you from above, _”Please,”_ as he drew in a very deep breath. It made his belly seem to swell, so you pressed your palm into it as you smiled at him.

“I’m sorry, Ani— you’re distracting,” you told him, to which he laughed breathlessly. Then, you finally took him into your mouth the way he’d been craving; however, this time you went very slowly: Thanks to Anakin, you felt you had a bit more freedom right now than you’d had only a few minutes ago, and you wanted to enjoy yourself as you rewarded his initiative.

You licked every last drop of what he’d been leaking off of the tip first; then, you ran your tongue all around its perfect ridge. You slipped your tongue along the underside of his shaft after that, and as he bucked into your face in response, you sucked very hard. He moaned, and then you heard— in his rich, beautiful voice— your name echo off of the walls and ceiling of the cavernous space to which he’d brought you so that you could enjoy each other this way. 

You grasped a handful of his fat in response; one of his beautiful lovehandles— which you’d been not only appreciating, but also slowly and happily growing for him over the past little while. As you started to move your head more quickly, you flicked your tongue over his veins; he throbbed and dripped. You dug your nails into him and let your teeth clip his tip as he began to put pressure on the back of your head with his hand: You knew that he loved to go off while he was pushed as far into the back of your throat as possible. You loved it too, and so you reached up with your other hand and clutched his flesh tightly on his other side with it, too.

With a generous portion of him in each hand, the dinner you’d delighted in feeding him resting heavily between them, and his hips bucking unreservedly into your face, now, you shouted through his cock. He yelled out, too, and as he thrust himself toward you one more time, he gripped your hair. He rejoiced happily into that spot at the back of your throat he seemed to love so much. You ate him up as ravenously as you’d found he liked to eat for you; let him start to soften in your mouth before pulling your head away and slowly standing up. You released your hold on his middle as you did, and noticed sharp, red marks where you’d clawed him with your nails.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again with a smile as you fingered the fresh scratches gently, and revelled in kissing his jaw.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said between breaths. “That was fucking _perfect_.”

“Perfect like you,” you told him, as you began to run both of your hands up and down the length of his torso.

The two of you were still close enough to the wall that he could reach out over your shoulder and lean on it for support, so he did that, and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking downward to admire the way his belly seemed to hang out so wantonly. His wet cock was beautiful, too, as was his chest; you loved to watch him breathe, and sweat. 

Even though you loved the sight of him on display for you like this, you didn’t want him to get cold, so as his breathing calmed, you tucked him back into his pants. As he stood straight, you tugged his zipper up; however, you still found it beyond your abilities to get that pesky top button refastened— he’d definitely need new pants, soon. Once again, you settled for doing his belt up over it; however, you were able to do a more serviceable job of it this time.

Once you’d put his lower half back together, you took another look at the smooth, perfectly-rounded landscape his open shirt revealed to you; as your eyes travelled upward past his chest and neck, they met his and he grinned at you. It was much the same grin as on the train— except, perhaps, he looked a bit more tired, now. 

“Thank you,” he said.

“That was all you,” you reminded him. He was the one who’d taken you up here, after all.

“No,” he said. “It started at dinner. I knew this was going to happen as soon as we sat down together.”

Maybe he was telling the truth about that— you hadn’t wasted any time in placing your hands on him, then; hadn’t even made an attempt at quelling the joy feeding him and kissing him and rubbing him had brought you.

You shrugged, “I just wanted you to feel better.” You’d had— it was a bad day for Anakin at work which had precipitated this entire adventure. 

He laughed, “I feel better, believe me.” He stood up taller; shook his head. “But, now all I want to do is get home, and get into bed with you.”

“I feel just the same,” you grinned, and you began to do the buttons on his shirt back up. He raised his hand, however; stopped you. You asked him, “Aren’t you cold?”

“Not really,” he told you. “And anyway, I don’t want you to stop touching me just because we have to get back on the train.”

“Oh? Are you still in the mood for a belly-rub, Ani?” 

As you began to walk toward the stairs so that you could go back down to the platform, you wrapped your arm around him; pulled him into your side. He leaned in closely, too, and answered, “I think I am.” After a slight hesitation, he added, “...Anyway, you know how I sometimes like to show off... don’t you?”

You laughed at that, and tightened your hold on him. Ani did, indeed, like to show off... and you were particularly impressed with him, tonight: You’d never seen him recover from a bad day quite so effectively, or with this much haste. He seemed thrilled now, in fact... even if it had made him excessively adventurous. You were glad of that effect, and even more pleased to be on your way home with an incredible man you had already thought you couldn’t possibly love more.

As your voices reverberated off of the walls around you and the sound of the next train pulling into the station made itself heard, you thought of just how eager you were to jump into bed that night, and also of how much you had enjoyed your dinner out.

You looked forward to belly-rubs on the train, too, while you considered how you might keep Anakin awake through them long enough to get to your stop.

He _did_ still have that adorable habit of falling asleep after he’d eaten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤️✌️ More coming.


	5. Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter five, wow. He’s a bit fatter here. ❤️ Remember, I said this had no plot lol.

You placed a hand on either side of Ani’s belly and revelled in holding it in your hands as you knelt between his legs. He was sitting on the couch, leaning back— and he appeared to be very eager for the attention you were preparing to afford his midsection. He was wearing a shirt, but it was tight, and you’d already tugged it up to reveal your favourite part of his body to you. You knew his cock was half-hard and already beginning to drip, but you hadn’t touched it yet. In fact, it was still tucked into those (new; bigger) black sweatpants of his, because you had come to like to tease him.

Anakin had never tolerated teasing of any kind very well before; however, that seemed to have changed since you’d started to help him put on weight. He’d been calmer all-around, really— and although he’d always been very eager to make you happy, he seemed so now more than ever. You enjoyed having him this way.

He was a bit softer everywhere, these days; those muscles he still liked to use to hold you both up on the train were becoming well-concealed underneath the beautiful new layer of flesh you were slowly imposing on him. Even his face seemed to have rounded out a little bit; however, you’d both discovered over the last while that Anakin had a distinct tendency to gain weight in his stomach. If he were to sit up straight, his belly would certainly rest on his lap; he’d been clothes-shopping (twice, in fact), but what he’d bought the last time was already becoming tight.

You thought it was incredible, and so did he— you knew because you liked to tell each other.

“I love being like this for you,” he said, as you leaned in to kiss his navel. You loved to lick it and suck on the bottom of it; it was deeper, now, and more fun to play with than you thought it could possibly get. He made a very happy noise as you thrust your tongue into it; then, you nipped at his belly-fat as you pulled back to look at him.

“I love making you like this,” you answered as you gave him a jiggle. You loved to jiggle Ani’s belly; it was very easy to do, now. It made him shift; stifle a little moan.

He smiled, “I didn’t think you’d want a fat boyfriend.”

“I want _you_ ,” you corrected him. “Getting to make you fat just is icing on the cake.”

“I fucking love cake,” he said, which made you laugh and take a generous handful of him from the bottom part of his well-rounded stomach.

“I can tell,” you teased, and you kneaded his flesh with your fingers. You added, “I never thought you’d let me do this to you,” because you truly never could have guessed.

“I didn’t know I needed it until it started to happen... and when it did, I was sure you’d be upset.”

“Nothing that makes you this happy could ever upset me,” you reminded him, “And anyway, you look fantastic carrying a few extra pounds.”

“It’s more than a few at this point, don’t you think?” He raised his hand to give his own softened pectoral a loose squeeze; then, he poked at his belly, which was delightful to watch. Maybe he was right, although you weren’t about to complain.

“Are you going to stop, then?” You asked this very carefully; continued to finger his flesh.

“Huh? Oh...” his face went red at that; he was adorable. “...Well, I know I said it was up to you, but... would you be mad if I said I really didn’t want to stop yet?”

You grinned. “I wouldn’t be mad... but, I _would_ still get to help you, wouldn’t I?” 

Ani had always been magnificently handsome, but like _this_ you found that you could scarcely keep your hands off of him. You loved the sensation of placing your arms around him and appreciating his new girth; enjoyed rubbing that perfect belly of his whether you were in bed at home, or out shopping in public. You relished feeding him, too: Ani absolutely loved to be fed.

He looked down at you; his eyes were incredibly beautiful, and you could see his love for you in them as he answered, “Of course you still get to help me— how could I ever do this without you?”

You laughed, “I’m sure you’d find a way... if you really wanted it.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. Then, a bit more boldly as he used his natural hand to give himself a rub, “...But, it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.”

You loved that this was fun for him; it certainly was for you, too. You began to run your fingers very lightly over the delicious roundness you’d been kneading before as you became mesmerized at the sight of himself enjoying his enhanced physique. His pants were new, but his shirt was not, and you loved the way it seemed to scarcely contain him. You also loved grasping the hem of it; trying to pull it down so that it might cover him the way it once had, and so you did that now.

It didn’t, of course: The edge of it stopped just above his navel, and the fabric pulled tightly as it stretched across his chest and stomach. He took his hand off of himself and watched; he looked very pleased with your work so far. The view you were afforded of him spilling out of his clothes as you sat between his legs was irresistible, so you leaned back in to kiss his flesh, but this time you couldn’t help sinking your teeth gently into the softest part of his belly. 

Maybe he hadn’t expected that, because he jumped; made a noise. You did it again, and that time he tried to stay still; let another sound escape his throat. It told you that he was trying to be quiet, but simply couldn’t manage. You took as plentiful a mouthful of him as you could, and began to suck on his skin; gently at first, but soon you couldn’t help but begin to bite him again. His shirt started to ride up his belly when he shifted that time; it made you slide your hand underneath, and appreciate how tightly the fabric held your palm to his flesh.

As you started to push the hem back upward so that you could see all of his stomach again, you asked him, “How much bigger do you want to be, Ani?” Once more, you could never have guessed that he would enjoy this; however, he did— and since you enjoyed it too (and it seemed to be good for his demeanour) you were determined to help him become exactly as fat as he wanted.

He smiled; told you, “I don’t know yet,” and paused to groan softly as you rubbed a big, wide circle into his side. He continued, “I just know that this isn’t enough.”

“If this isn’t enough, then I have an idea,” you said.

“What sort of idea?” he asked, with more than a hint of excitement.

You moved to stand, and then you crawled up beside him on the couch. As you began to finger his bellybutton again, you whispered into his ear, “Are you hungry?”

“ _Always,”_ he breathed as he closed his eyes. You could see and feel goosebumps come up on his skin as your lips tickled his ear.

“Good boy, Ani,” you praised him, and you got up to retrieve an enticingly generous portion of a particularly fancy brand of ice cream. You’d bought it, of course, with the intention of having it available at a moment just such as this one. You loved to feed Anakin ice cream; by necessity you had to take your time as you did so, and that allowed you to enjoy feeding him for even longer. Besides that, of course, it was incredibly useful in helping him put on more weight.

By the time you returned with it, he was sitting up again. His middle was resting serenely on part of his lap; as you sat down, you couldn’t help but use your free hand to squeeze one of those impressive lovehandles you were enjoying more than ever now. He jumped a bit, which was wonderful to watch; then, he grinned as he noticed what you’d brought out to him.

“Where were you hiding that?” he asked.

“Behind the ice,” you told him with a laugh.

“You’re mean,” he scolded playfully.

“I’m _very_ nice,” you countered. “And since I _do_ work late so much, I know there’s a lot I miss out on around here.” As if to demonstrate, you slid a hand underneath the bottom of his girth, where he was softest; where he’d started to spill onto his own lap. You gave him a jiggle that way; again, it was always a lot of fun to jiggle Ani.

“How can you really tell?” he asked. His face flushed once more.

“I can tell by how quickly this happened,” you answered as you leaned down to give the upper part of his stomach a little kiss.

He laughed at that, and sat up a little more. “You got me,” he said. “But you’re here right now, aren’t you?”

“I’m here, Ani,” you assured him, and you used the spoon you’d already stuck into the top of the open container to gather a bite of his snack for him. 

He took it eagerly; once he had, he swallowed gratefully and told you, _”Thank you.”_

“You’re more than welcome,” you said, and you cuddled up beside him; let him settle into being fed spoonful after generous spoonful of frozen dessert. You did take your time; paused often to rub his belly and kiss his neck as he accepted every little bit of affection you offered him. You even whispered into his ear; teased him, too, because he really was coming to love that, as time passed and his waist grew thicker.

The portion you’d brought out to him had not been small by any means; however, he did let you feed him the entire thing... and when he was finished, you found that it was considerably more difficult for you to pull his shirt down over that bulging stomach of his than it had been before he’d started. You put the empty container on the floor, and used both of your hands to admire how round and tight you’d rendered him.

He sighed heavily; put his head back and closed his eyes. He seemed to savour the feeling of your palms and fingertips as they travelled over the smooth, beautiful spread of perfectly-bloated belly you’d happily inflicted on him.

“I _have_ told you you’re perfect, haven’t I?” you asked him, as you made him groan with a gentle jostle to the most distended part of his stomach.

“You have,” he confirmed, without opening his eyes. He added with a chuckle, “Sometimes I even believe you.”

“Would you believe me if I told you right now?”

He smiled; seemed to consider that. “It depends,” he said. “What are you prepared to do to prove it to me?”

You leaned down, licked a line vertically along the middle of his torso until you reached his navel; then, you tongued it just the way you liked best. He must have been more sensitive now that you’d stuffed him a little extra full, because it made him buck his hips this time. You noticed anew the hardness waiting for you inside his pants; it was as greedy presently as his stomach had come to be.

As you fingered his cock through the fabric, “Anything, Anakin— _anything_.” You always wanted him to feel happy. He was _your_ fat boyfriend, after all.

He squirmed; reached up to touch your face as he asked of you with a lovely grin, “Help me drag myself upstairs, and get these fucking clothes off.”

You couldn’t help laughing, because he was simply so cute. Then, you stood (somewhat reluctantly, because the last thing you wanted to do was to take your hands off of him); extended your arm out so that he could grab it. He did, and together you heaved him up. 

You left the living room just as it was; led Ani by the hand up the stairs so that you could show him just how perfect you really thought he was... Partly because of what you'd done to him together, but primarily because showing him how he made you feel had always been one of your favourite things to do.


	6. Fitting Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This always feels like cheating on my other stories, but if you’re here you like it too so oh well.
> 
> This chapter was extra fun to write because none of us can really actually go shopping or out to eat anymore lol. Also belly-slapping mmm.

_”Shit,”_ said Ani. You were in the hallway downstairs when you heard him from up in the bedroom, so you began to make your way there to see what the problem was.

“What’s wrong?” you asked as you ascended the stairs. You still couldn’t see him.

“Um... we forgot to take something into consideration before our time off!” he called out to you.

You’d become tired of being away from one another so often; had each managed to schedule two weeks off from work at the same time. You’d enjoyed being together at home immensely, but there had apparently been a caveat to the pleasure you’d taken in it.

“Hm?”

“...I’m out of pants again,” you heard him say.

“You can’t be!” You grinned as you approached the door.

“I am,” he confirmed, and you walked into the room to see him standing in the middle of it. He was wearing— or mostly wearing— a pair of jeans he’d bought only a few weeks prior. The front of them hung open below where his stomach popped out. His belly had become heavy enough to hang a little bit over the waistband of his sweat pants recently... and with these new jeans, he hadn’t even managed the bottom part of the zipper.

“I didn’t think you looked _that_ much bigger,” you said, as you walked over and gave him an affectionate rub. He hadn’t worn clothes with any discernible tailoring since you’d begun your little vacation together, and you knew you’d been overfeeding him... but, you supposed you hadn’t realized quite how much.

It was hard not to notice it right now, of course, as he attempted (and failed) to get properly dressed.

You stepped right up to him, fiddled with his open pants for a moment, and then gave up on that in favour of simply pressing your body into his. He made a noise as you kissed the side of his neck; pulled you in closely with the hand nature had given him as he used his bionic one to stroke the back of your neck.

“You’re the one who did this to me,” he reminded you, which he loved to do.

You nosed your way past a few beautiful strands of his hair to tug on his earlobe with your teeth, and then you poked at the side of his belly. You loved the way it felt pushing up against you as you held each other. Playfully, you asked in a whisper, “Does that mean you’ve decided you’re fat enough now, Ani?”

He chuckled, _”No—_ not even close.” He pulled back to look at you with a smile; he had the most beautiful smile. After that, he kissed you; when he was finished, he asked, “Do you have _any_ idea how addictive this is?”

You did have an idea; a very good one, in fact— it was addictive for you, too.

“I do,” you told him, and you grasped a handful of his flesh from where you’d been poking at him. “If it’s as much fun for you as it is for me, anyway.”

“You know it is,” he gasped, and he held you even more tightly in response to your touch.

As you kneaded him suggestively with your fingers, “Why don’t we go out together and buy you something new to wear?”

“I’m not shopping on an empty stomach,” he told you, as though it should have been obvious.

“I’m sorry,” you laughed. “You’re right— I’ll feed you lunch, too, then. Okay?” You pulled yourself away from him reluctantly at that, and retrieved for him the only pants he had left which he could wear.

As he tugged off the pair that didn’t fit anymore, “Okay— I love going out to eat with you.”

You loved going out to eat with Ani, too. He never minded when you wanted to feed him yourself, whether with a fork or with your hand. He’d licked everything from pasta sauce to chocolate mousse off of your fingers in full-view of whoever happened to be looking, and he eagerly invited belly-rubs regardless of where you found yourselves.

You watched him get dressed in a set of clothes he actually could wear; gazed happily at him as he used his hand to tug his shirt down over his stomach. To your delight, it left exposed an irresistible little sliver of skin at the very bottom; just enough that if you were to step into him closely, you could reach up and finger the softest part of his midsection with ease. 

Once he was ready, you stood to leave with him— you couldn’t wait to fill him up, and you were eagerly looking forward to helping him try on pants. His artificial right arm afforded you an excellent excuse to accompany him as he did so: You’d never, ever been expelled from a store for ‘assisting’ him that way, despite several instances of inappropriate behaviour from the both of you in changing rooms.

Going out with Anakin had always been enjoyable, but now you never knew quite what to expect from him... and more than just fun, that made it exciting, too.

You really did love what you’d done to him.

...

“Hey!” The woman shouting at you worked at the store, and she was unhappy. “You can’t both go in there at the same time!”

You’d been about to enter a fitting booth, alongside Anakin and an armful of jeans and other assorted pants. You were leading him by the hand with an enormous grin on your face, and you supposed you must have looked fairly conspicuous as you headed in the direction of the only private space in the establishment.

You stopped at the door; turned along with Ani to face her. With an expression you hoped conveyed utmost innocence, “I _have_ to go in with him, ma’am.”

As she began to give you a very skeptical look, Anakin added with a similarly blameless intonation, “It’s my hand,” and he held up that cybernetic miracle of engineering you thought was as arousing as the rest of him. He clenched it so that the woman could see exactly what it was.

Grudgingly, she acquiesced.

“Fine,” she said, although she added, “I won’t be far away,” and you both knew that she didn’t necessarily mean that she would be available to assist you.

Once she’d turned away from you, you and Ani looked at one another and tried your best not to laugh. That wasn’t the first time you’d pulled this particular stunt; however, it _was_ your first time dragging him into a changing room after having stuffed him to the point where he was practically spilling out of his clothes.

For this reason, he sat heavily on the small bench along the wall as soon as you’d made your way in. He didn’t go down alone, however— you’d still been hanging onto his good arm, so he tugged you along with him. You shifted; landed straddling his lap with his stomach resting between your legs. As he released you from his grasp, you placed both of your hands on the upper part of his girth. Again, you’d fed him so much at lunch that it was as round and full as you’d ever seen it; besides that, sitting down had caused the hem of his shirt to start to ride up— you could see a hint of his navel when you looked down. 

As you slid your hand down along the front of his torso so that you could finger it eagerly, you asked him sweetly, “Did you get enough to eat at lunch?”

“Just barely,” he said with a smile. He slid his hand around to your back; slipped it up your shirt. You squeezed his belly between your thighs in response, but that made him moan— loudly.

“Shh,” you scolded him. “Do you want that lady to come back?”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “You made me.”

That gave you an idea. “...Let’s play a game,” you suggested, as a sly smile spread over your own face, and you dug your nail into his bellybutton a little more deeply than you’d intended.

He stifled a yelp at that; asked you, “What sort of game?”

You took his stomach between your hands and leaned in closely as you squeezed him again and whispered, “A ‘how long can Ani stay quiet if I play with him in the fitting room’ sort of game.”

He shifted beneath you. “Play with me how?”

“Help me slide these off,” you said of his sweatpants as you crept off of him; knelt on the floor.

He knew exactly what you meant, and so he did as you’d asked. With delight, you watched him move about as you helped him undress. Once you’d freed him entirely from the waist down, you took him by the knees and spread his legs apart. His belly popped out gorgeously between them, and his cock— solid, and impatient-looking— poked out happily from under it; head glimmering with excitement.

You reached out to brush your fingertips along the underside of his stomach; again, he was incredibly soft there— you loved the way he felt so much that you couldn’t help but hold him in your palm and jiggle him. 

He stifled a noise; you asked him, “Does that feel good?” even though you already knew the answer. He nodded at you; you reached up with your other hand and rubbed him where he was the most full and tight— just above his navel. You pressed your hand into him; jostled him, drawing another muffled sound. 

“You look like you swallowed a watermelon,” you teased, and then you pushed your thumb into his bellybutton. 

Finally, he came close to shouting. _”Fuck,”_ he breathed. Then, “...Do that again.”

You did do it again; after that, you pinched the bottom of his belly right where you’d been holding him with your palm. You weren’t gentle; he let out a whine that time— to which you chided him, “Shh!”

He grinned, and shrugged.

_”Bad boy,”_ you whispered, and you took a somewhat daring chance— you drew your palm back, and slapped him right in the side of his beautiful gut.

He did yell, then— sharply and loudly, but he quieted himself in little time. You could see his cock throb as its tip leaked; you loved the way it looked sticking out from under his fresh girth. You reached in and used your thumb to rub at the top of it; it was slick and rigid, and touching him that way made him shift. 

As he leaned back against the wall, you grasped him by the shaft and began to pump him slowly. 

“Slap me again,” he said.

“Did you like that?” you asked. You felt pleasantly surprised— you’d certainly enjoyed doing it; you could only have hoped that Ani might like being on the receiving end of a harsh slap to the side of his belly.

 _”Slap me again,”_ he confirmed, with a bit more desperation in his voice. You loved when he needed you like this.

“Whatever you like, Ani,” you said, and you gave him another firm smack with one hand as you squeezed his cock with the other. He bucked his hips; you watched his belly heave as you pressed your palm into his flesh— he was _so warm_. You began to pump him again; a bit faster this time. You glanced up at his face, and could see that he’d resorted to biting his own lip in an attempt to stay silent. 

You looked from his face down to his dick, then, on which you maintained a very firm hold. You pushed his belly up from the bottom with the hand you’d used to smack him, which made him grunt; then, you squeezed him tightly. You leaned in so that you could bite at his midsection as you continued to stroke his length, and with every little nip you imposed on him, he squirmed and whined. You knew he was becoming too loud; knew somebody was likely to hear him soon if you didn’t stop, but you couldn’t— he was just too much fun this way.

Eventually, you felt that perfect hardness of his begin to pulse in your palm. You gazed at its wet tip; admired the throbbing veins running down the length of it. As you dug your nails into his flesh with your other hand, his ability to control his voice ceased entirely and he shouted out _very_ loudly as he burst forcefully into your grip.

Beautiful, silky strings of Anakin coated your knuckles; dripped down your wrist. It was at that point you heard a set of footsteps, quick and irate, approaching from outside the door. Hastily, you licked him off of your hand; sucked each of your fingers clean as fast as you could while still enjoying the delicious taste of him to the fullest.

As he heaved himself up, there was a knock at the door; you stood up from the floor, and helped him step back into the pants he’d worn into the store as quickly as you possibly could. The knock came a second time; by then, thankfully, Ani was mostly put back together. It was wonderful to catch a glance at the hand-print you had left on his side; it looked fresh and raw. You, too, had (hopefully) wiped enough of him off of your face and hand that nobody would have been able to guess that you’d just finished doing what you’d done with him.

You opened the door to see the same woman who had ‘greeted’ you upon entering the fitting area; she looked incredibly unhappy. You looked back at Anakin; he was red-faced (and still breathing heavily)... but, he was wearing the most perfectly beautiful grin. It did have the effect of making him look utterly culpable, though, and in spite of having helped him try on exactly zero pairs of pants here, you had the distinct feeling that it was time you left the store.

You walked out empty-handed, that time— but, you were still hopeful that the two of you might have better luck somewhere else.

It was early in the day, after all, and there were still lots of other stores (and other fitting rooms) for you to try.


	7. One Left

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favourite so far idk.

“More?”

_”More.”_

You lifted a divinely-crafted cupcake up to Anakin’s perfect lips. His ravenous mouth had already been stained with icing, because this was his eighth one, following dinner... and there were still four left in the box of them you’d bought for just this occasion. You were straddling his lap as he leaned back against the head of your bed, neither of you was wearing clothes, and you’d been this way since you had started to feed him. This, in fact, might have been your _favourite_ way to feed Ani.

He made an approving noise; started by licking the frosting off of the top of the cake, which was delightful to watch. Once he’d done that, he took the entire upper half of it in one bite; closed his eyes as he chewed and swallowed it. You put your hand on his belly; rubbed him lovingly while he ate.

Of course, Ani had put on more weight— frankly, he seemed to have ballooned up just a bit more quickly than either of you would have expected, especially as of late. It was for this reason that you were able to trace with your fingertips a few fresh, crimson-red stretch-marks which had been etched into the side of his belly by your having consistently overindulged him. You would have felt guilty, but Ani so very much loved getting fat for you (and you certainly loved it, too) that you simply couldn’t. All you found yourself able do was enjoy the sight of his his vastly expanded waistline, and admire his highly-skilled tongue as it licked the crumbs from those beautiful lips of his.

You popped the last of the cupcake into his mouth; he accepted it hungrily. As he finished it, you asked him, “Is _that_ enough?” 

His eyes opened, then— they’d always been very blue and incredibly intense, and right now their gaze was as deep and captivating as it had ever been. He smiled, and stared at you determinedly as he answered, “No— _I need more.”_

You feigned a shocked expression. Both hands now free, you placed them side-by-side on his stomach and pressed your fingers into his flesh. He was fairly stuffed presently; however, even if he hadn’t been, you knew he’d have looked quite large— Ani _was_ quite large, now that you’d been working at making him that way for a while. You simply couldn’t get enough of touching him in this state; every part of his body, it seemed, had become easier to grasp, jiggle, and squeeze.

“Aren’t you full yet?” you asked, in a way you hoped indicated that you did not truly believe he was anything approaching full.

“No,” he laughed. “I could do this forever,” and he placed his hand atop one of yours; aided you in giving his belly a shake, which made him shift and moan contentedly.

That made you very happy to hear. You raised a hand to touch his face, then, because he was so beautiful— especially now that he’d rounded out so nicely. You ran your finger under his chin; enjoyed how soft he felt there, now. He’d always been adorable, but he looked particularly so all plumped up for you.

“Why do you want this so badly, Ani?” you asked him, as you took your other hand back from underneath his to retrieve the next cupcake from the box beside you. You certainly knew that gaining weight stimulated him sexually; you knew, too, that it seemed to have plentifully improved his overall mood and demeanour. However, you still weren’t quite sure as to how or why it worked for him. Now, you thought, seemed as good a time as any to ask. He looked to consider your question as he consumed your next offering.

Once he had, he heaved himself up so that he was sitting a little taller; you shifted along with him from your place on his lap. As he continued to hold your attention, he told you, “Every time you put something in my mouth— _every time I can’t get my pants on—_ it means I’m not in control.” 

He looked down at that; you saw his face go red, as it tended to do when he spoke with you in great detail about this. It was a bit easier for him to be open about it now, you knew— but you also knew that being open about _anything_ had always been a challenge for Anakin.

When he looked back up at you, he seemed to have found the strength to continue, “I’ve always had to be in control of myself; of everything— ever since I can remember. I’ve always been afraid that if I gave any of it up, I’d hurt someone.” After some hesitation, his face broke out into a shy-looking grin. “...This, though?” He poked at his own belly. “ _This_ doesn’t hurt anybody... and I can’t get enough of it.” He laughed as he finished, “I thought you wouldn’t put up with it, but...” With a shrug, he motioned to the open box of sweets on the bed. 

You grinned back at him, because you were so glad he knew how much you loved this.

You leaned into him after that; enjoyed the way it felt to press your body into his. You licked a thin line up what used to be a very well-defined jaw and said into his ear, “I’m not ‘putting up’ with it, Ani— _I love you like this._ ”

It was his turn to ask you— curiously; sensuously— “Why?”

“Because it makes you happy,” you said. You sat up straight on his lap again, and took his bulging stomach between your hands once more. You patted it with one of them; very much enjoyed the sound your palm made as it glanced his flesh. “And it makes _me_ happy, too,” you continued. “I’ve never wanted to touch anyone or anything more than I want to touch you the way you are right now.”

He was still smiling, but he shook his head. “I should have let you know I wanted this as soon as it started to happen,” he told you.

“Don’t worry about that.” You reached behind yourself for another cupcake; once you’d retrieved it, you were left with just two in the box. You wondered if he’d finish off the package. “I know _now_ , and that’s all that really matters.” You could see the desire in his eyes, and so you fed him what you had in your hand; let him eat it up at his own pace— which just so happened to be relatively quickly, this time. You made a happy sound and writhed atop him as he licked at your fingers. As you clenched your thighs around his, “I _love_ watching you eat, Ani.”

“I love eating for you,” he told you in return. Then, he eyed the mostly-depleted box sitting next to you one more time.

“You’re still not finished, are you?” you taunted playfully. “If we keep this up, you’re never going to _stop_ getting bigger.”

His grin turned mischievous as he queried, “Would that really be so bad?”

You laughed and reached back to retrieve one of the two desserts you still had left to feed him. “Not for me,” you smirked, and you held the next cupcake up to his mouth. He wasted no time in licking the frosting off of that one, too; however, before you fed him the rest of it, you leaned in so that you could kiss him. He tasted fantastic.

He always, _always_ tasted fantastic.

 _”Thank you,”_ he whispered, as you pulled your head away. 

“I’d do absolutely anything for you, you know,” you reminded him. 

“Will you keep helping me like this?” he asked. He seemed very serious, suddenly. 

You intensified your own gaze; you wanted him to know that you were being absolutely truthful when you answered, “ _Yes,_ Anakin. For as long as you want me to.” 

He seemed both incredibly happy, and somehow deeply affected at the same time. He smiled at you, grasped your hand by the wrist, and guided you; had you feed him the last of what you were holding in a single bite. You chuckled at the crumbs on his lips. Then, you brushed away a few of the ones which had fallen atop his chest; onto the bulging upper part of his belly, too.

He laughed as well; it must have tickled— he looked magnificent when anything he did made his girth shake or shift. Hands once again free, you rubbed his stomach some more; as his laughter ceased, he gifted your ears a delicious moan.

“There’s one left,” you told him, then. “Do you want it?” You gripped his middle from the sides; took two handfuls of flesh from what would have been his lovehandles, before... but, Ani didn’t exactly have lovehandles, anymore.

Now, Ani simply had a big, round, and absolutely perfectly-distended gut.

You’d essentially put it there yourself, you loved it nearly as much as you loved him, and you also loved how very much he appreciated your efforts in helping it grow.

“Fuck yes I want it,” he told you. He certainly sounded sure of himself, and so you didn’t ask whether he was actually certain or not: Wordlessly, you retrieved that last cupcake, and brought it up to his mouth... just as you had with the other eleven of them.

“Good boy,” you praised, and you let him eat from your hand one more time. He made this one last; took his time. He even left a bit of a mess in your palm, between the cake and the frosting, but he licked it up so very eagerly that you were not remotely inclined toward making a complaint. You simply watched his perfect lips and incredibly needy tongue work deftly to finish eating up the very last of what you had to put inside of him.

Once he was done, he closed his eyes again and let his head loll back; those lovely, frosting-stained lips drawn into a very satisfied smile. You couldn’t help but clamber off of his lap so that you could lean down and thrust your tongue into his bellybutton at the sight of him. You wiggled it about, and sucked on his delectable fat with your lips; nipped him with your teeth too, of course, because that always made him yelp and jiggle in the most wonderful ways.

He said your name, and so you glanced up from his midsection with a smile and asked him what he wanted. You really would have done anything in the world for Anakin.

A little bit sheepishly, “...I want you to slap me,” he said. 

“In the belly?” you grinned.

 _”Please,”_ he exhorted, as he reached down to touch your face affectionately.

“I’m sorry,” you told him. “That was a silly question, wasn’t it?”

He simply nodded, because it truly had been a silly thing to ask— where else would he want to be smacked that way?

You drew your hand back, then, and gave a firm slap to the tightest, roundest part of his middle. He groaned and bucked, and you delighted in the sight of his utterly bloated stomach bobbing in response to the force of his movement. It looked nearly as if it ought to have been painful, but he obviously loved it.

You’d already had an absolutely amazing time with Anakin tonight, and your evening’s adventure had only just begun.


	8. Chocolate Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is 3k words of sheer fatassery & also my new favourite chapter. :))

“Did you see the way everyone was looking at us, Ani?”

You asked this as you bucked your hips and gripped the back of Anakin’s gorgeous mop of golden clasps. His hair was as perfect as the rest of him; you loved to stroke and tug on it. It was very easy to grasp right now, because you were leaned up against the counter in your kitchen with his head positioned between your legs.

Everything you’d been wearing on your own lower half had been discarded soon after walking into the house; Anakin was still dressed— he simply couldn’t wait to make you happy. He was on his knees in front of you right now, excitedly licking and sucking away. Ani’s mouth was incredibly talented, and he was always eager to show you just what his lips and tongue could do.

He looked up briefly so that he could answer you with a chuckle, “I did— most of them hadn’t seen me for a while, you know.”

“Imagine how impressed they must have been,” you said as you breathed deeply and regained your composure at his having paused.

“I think ‘shocked’ would probably be a better word for it,” he pointed out with a wry little smirk. Then, he went back to work on you— you swore you could feel him put his teeth to use that time, and it made you yelp.

You and Anakin had just come home from dinner— however, it hadn’t exactly been an ordinary dinner. It had been part of a large function associated with Ani’s work, and many of those in attendance only happened to meet up with one another physically once or twice each year. This meant that he had received various odd glances and probing stares from all kinds of people who hadn’t seen him since before he’d started to gain weight... and that kind of attention seemed to have had quite a positive effect on him.

“Did anyone say anything to you?” you asked him through a grateful moan, as you pulled gently on your handful of his hair.

With an expert swirl of his tongue, “A couple of people asked if I was ‘okay’.”

You cast your gaze downward, and he looked up once again; your eyes met, and you both laughed— because you knew that ostensible expression of concern had been code for ‘you got fat’. That knowledge brought both of you immense pleasure.

“What did you say?”

“I told them I’d been spending a lot of time at home with you lately,” he said with a smile. “And that there was nothing to worry about, because you’ve been taking _very_ good care of me.”

A hot surge of arousal at the way he’d decided to phrase that made you lose your balance momentarily; you almost fell, but he reached up to steady you with his hand.

“I try my best,” you managed to inform him. Your breath hitched, then; your hand wrenched poor Ani’s hair more harshly than you’d intended as every one of your muscles seemed to clench at once. Anakin made a sound which had become very familiar to you— it meant something tasted very good to him, and right now that ‘something’ was you. You grinned as he grabbed the countertop beside you to hoist himself to his feet with a sensuous grunt.

“You’re doing a fantastic job,” he said, once he’d stood. He was very close to you; as he leaned in so that you could taste yourself on his tongue, you placed a hand on either side of his belly and squeezed.

“Do you really think so?” you asked. 

“I really do,” he assured you, as he bared his teeth prior to sinking them into the side of your neck. 

You loved the way his body felt pressing into yours while he leaned into you; ceased your squeezing, and started to rub at the sides of his belly through his shirt instead. He’d eaten a lot at dinner (he always ate a lot at dinner), and it had become fairly tight over the course of the evening. You fingered the different places the fabric pulled at his girth. Then, you reminded yourself of the way the buttons running down the front of it had _just_ started to show signs of being under strain as he had sat down in the car beside you to go home.

Because he was still nibbling on your neck, you whispered into his ear, “How full are you, Anakin?”

“Pretty fucking full,” he laughed, as he drew back from your neck to show you his beautiful grin again.

“So... you definitely wouldn’t want any _extra_ dessert, then?” You’d already taken great pleasure in watching him consume what had been offered after dinner; however, you didn’t figure it could hurt to suggest a little something more.

“I said I was full— not that I was done eating,” he said, with a distinct glint of mischief in his eye.

“I want to make you chocolate cake, Ani.”

“I love it when you make me chocolate cake.”

And so you sat him down in a chair in the kitchen to watch you start. You loved watching the way his stomach bulged when he sat; right now, he found that he had to undo both his belt and his pants for the sake of his own comfort. When he began to unbutton his shirt in that uniquely-skilled, one-armed way he had of doing so, however, you stopped him.

“No, no— leave that.”

“What? Why? This thing’s practically cutting into me,” he said of the crisp, white garment he’d rendered almost too tight to wear with all he’d devoured earlier that night.

“Because I want to try something,” you said.

“Try what?” he asked curiously, as he began to watch you mix up a thick batter.

“You’ll see,” you told him.

“You mean, ‘shut your fat mouth and wait’, don’t you?” he grinned.

You chuckled, “It’s a _sexy_ fat mouth— but, you _are_ going to have to wait for me.”

As he leaned back and rested his arm across his stomach, he pointed out, “I didn’t make _you_ wait.” And he was right— he hadn’t.

You set down what you were holding momentarily, and walked over to him. You took his belly between your hands, leaned down, and kissed the side of it. The seams of his shirt really were binding him very tightly, you noticed gleefully.

“It’ll be worth it,” you promised him, as you reluctantly pulled yourself away from his midsection.

You meant that with utmost sincerity.

...

“You were supposed to _wait_!”

“I _couldn’t_ wait!” 

“Give me that! _Bad boy!_ ”

You’d only left the kitchen for a moment, but on your return, you discovered that Anakin had gotten into your cake batter. He’d risen from his chair, and— belly hanging out of his open pants— had begun to simply eat it from the bowl on the counter with a spoon. You gave him a swat in the gut; reached for the bowl, but he lifted it out of the way with his good arm. You began to try to pull it down... which made him laugh, because he didn’t budge. With how very plump he’d become, you sometimes came close to forgetting that he was still much stronger than you. 

You scowled, even though you weren’t really mad.

“Fine,” you said. “If you want to eat it like that, then you can eat it like that— _but_ , you have to sit down and let me help you do it. Okay?”

He seemed to think for a moment, before obviously remembering just how much fun it was for him to have your help as he ate. 

“Alright,” he said, and he handed you back the bowl; went off to sit back down heavily on the kitchen chair. You followed him, of course; bowl and spoon in hand. The oven was still preheating, even though it no longer needed to— you hadn’t yet realized quite how warm the room was becoming.

“You really want it like this, Ani?” You stood in front of him as you asked: Unless you wished to perch precariously on his knees, he scarcely had room for you to sit on his lap anymore, given the size of his belly.

“I don’t want to have to wait for it,” he told you, and he looked up at you with those pretty crystal-blue eyes of his; they almost seemed to beg... which made you want to hear him plead using his voice.

“Tell me why you want it,” you ordered him gently. You thought that would make him look away; make his face go red, but it didn’t.

Much to your surprise, he continued to stare into your eyes as he answered, “Because I’m not fat enough yet.”

You smiled; dug the spoon into the batter. Before you pulled it out, “How fat do you want to get, then?” You eyed his stomach; it was very big, and it seemed always to be getting bigger. You thought about the bright-red stretch-marks which had begun to snake across his sides; he even had a couple of them curling around his bellybutton, now: He was simply bloating up so quickly that his skin couldn’t keep up with it.

His chest had softened significantly, too; you loved to squeeze his fat and play with his nipples, because when he squirmed in response, he jiggled in the loveliest of places. Even his thighs had grown thicker and softer; you liked to claw at them while you sucked his cock, and bite at them as he bounced and shouted. His strong, powerful jaw had rounded out beautifully, too, and those sinewy biceps of his were being enveloped by a growing layer of soft, warm flesh.

Anakin was becoming more and more perfect for you every single day.

“You’ll be mad if I tell you how fat I want to get,” he said.

“If you _don’t_ tell me,” you warned him, “then I might just put _this_ away.” You stirred the spoon around in the mixture; looked between it and Anakin knowingly— he wasn’t going to give this up just to save himself a bit of humiliation. (You were coming to find, actually, that he sometimes displayed an adorable inclination toward being slightly embarrassed.)

His face did take on a tinge of pink, then; he answered with some hesitation, “...I want to get pretty fucking fat.”

 _”How fat, Ani?”_ You lifted the spoon from the bowl; it was dripping chocolate. You saw him eye it— perhaps a bit desperately. You licked a tiny bit of it from the end; you could have sworn you saw his lip quiver. The heat from the stove had started to make him sweat; he was beginning to take on a lovely, slick sheen.

As a bead of it dripped from his nose and landed on his belly, he took a deep breath— you loved how he seemed to swell. “I don’t want to stop until you stop me,” he told you determinedly.

You leaned down closely to ask, “What if I never stop you?”

He craned upward to meet you and said, _”Then I’m never going to stop.”_

“Good boy,” you said, and you finally allowed him that first spoonful of batter. “You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” 

He nodded; then, as he swallowed greedily, “I trust you.”

You gathered some more of the sweet, sticky mixture; reminded him as you fed it to him, “I’d do anything for you, Ani. _Anything_.”

“Even If I got too fat to go out? Too fat to _move_?” He asked this through a mouthful of chocolate; the heat from the stove was quickly causing him to become drenched with sweat, and a combination of nervousness and excitement was making him begin to breathe quite heavily. You knew that he was hard inside his pants; perfectly stiff underneath that big, bloated gut of his... but, you felt like making tonight last.

You left the spoon in the bowl a moment; fingered the buttons on his shirt. They were under great strain... and likely not far from entirely coming apart. He had pushed himself to his own limit at dinner; now, he was allowing you to test that limit here at home— you’d never felt so lucky before.

“No matter how big you get,” you promised him, “I’m always going to be here. I’ll feed you; love you— I’ll even bathe you, if you can’t do it yourself.” You truly didn’t care how much weight Anakin still wanted to gain; you knew how good it made him feel, and you weren’t about to try to make him stop. You imagined how tiny your handprint might someday look on the magnificence of his girth, and it motivated you to feed him more batter. 

Of course, he took it hungrily.

You continued this way for a while; finally, the bowl was empty— but those stubborn buttons were still hanging on. You kneeled to touch them gingerly; realized it would not take very much more for them to burst. Ani was still busy catching his breath, his chest was heaving, and his shirt had become soaked through with his sweat. Wordlessly, you walked over to the fridge; retrieved a tall carton of heavy cream.

“You look like you need something to wash that down,” you told him. 

He gazed up at you, face smeared with chocolate. “I don’t think I could,” he said as he looked at what you were holding.

“You want to get out of that shirt, don’t you?”

“Fuck _yes_ ,” he said emphatically.

“Then start popping buttons,” you grinned, and you opened up the container; proceeded to lift it to his lips. Before he could protest, you had begun to pour. He moaned through each mouthful, but he drank it; drank it as if he didn’t have a choice.

Finally, when the carton was nearly empty, you reached down with one hand to finger the front of his tortured shirt again... and this time, you were treated to the distinct sensation of it finally rupturing. You poked at the fresh hole; it was right over his navel, which you loved— loved so much you wasted little time in ripping the rest of the garment right open. He let out a thankful groan.

The sight of his stomach emerging so round and bloated, coupled with his always-multiplying stretch-marks and combined with his sweat, made you want to simply devour him— he looked as divine as anything you’d ever forced past his lips.

“That was a nice shirt,” he chuckled.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” you said dismissively. “Now, stand up— I want those pants off of you, too.”

 _”Stand up?”_ He looked at you incredulously.

“I’ll help you,” you said sweetly, and you put out a hand— which he did take. Then, with a great tug, you heaved him up. That was getting more and more difficult, you noted. With this thought in mind, you added, “I’ll _always_ help you.” 

As he pulled you in closely, he whispered with a calm smile, “See? I told you I couldn’t do this without you.” Then, “Thank you.” Anakin always thanked you.

You kissed him for that, because it made you feel as if he truly did need you; then, you dropped to your knees and began to tug his pants the rest of the way off— you wanted very much, now, to return the kindness he had done you when you’d first come home together.

Once you’d lowered yourself, you pushed his belly upward so that you could get a decent mouthful of his cock. While you did, you found that envisioning your future with him had rendered you slick and swollen between your own legs once more. You kneaded his fat as you toyed with yourself, and reflected on how lucky you were to be with Anakin.

No one else in the world would ever have let you do this to them— or _for_ them.


	9. Blunts & Collars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed a 4/20 chapter, so if you’re not down, just hang tight til next time. This right here is the mostly the same basic trash as the rest of them, except Ani & Reader smoke a joint & get all fluffy and weird together.
> 
> Musical suggestion: the song from Jabba’s Sail Barge

He _still_ looked cute laying there... but, he certainly took up a lot more space, now. 

You’d come home after work to Ani on the couch— you always loved when he tried to stay up for you, especially when he didn’t quite succeed. He was laying lengthwise on his side; he _was_ wearing a shirt tonight, but it had ridden up his belly in his sleep. You smiled at the way his navel peeked out from under its hem. Those stretch-marks of his you loved so much were highly visible; you couldn’t wait to touch them.

You walked up quietly; knelt down beside him, because he hadn’t left you a lot of room to sit on the sofa. You reached out eagerly to trace with your fingertip the crimson lines curling around the bottom of his bellybutton; they were so pretty. That they signified the momentous growth he’d allowed you to foist upon him endeared you to them even further; you felt almost as though you’d branded him.

You leaned in and kissed the marks gently— you had never had quite so much fun in your life as you’d been having recently with Ani’s body. Sometimes you could hardly believe he was letting you do this to it; however, the evidence was undeniable. You loved how he’d expanded for you, though, and so did he: You didn’t want him to stop any more than he wanted to himself.

As you started suck on the soft flesh close to where the bottom of his belly rounded out, he shifted. His stomach went heavily along with him; in fact, as you drew your head back to watch, you placed a hand on the side of it. His movement was intoxicating, whether to see or feel.

“Anakin?”

He moved again, but not enough to make you believe he was really awake.

_”Ani?”_

You jiggled his belly gently, and pushed your fingers into his flesh. You loved how round and taut he tended to become after letting you stuff him full, but you also adored the parts of him you’d rendered soft and plush with your encouragement of his wanton overeating. When he still didn’t move, you let your hand travel upward. You began to toy with his nipple through his shirt, first, before simply grasping a thick handful of his chest, and giving him a squeeze. He moaned, but still didn’t quite wake up— Anakin’s sleep was as heavy as the rest of him was becoming, it seemed.

You scooted along the floor in the direction of where he was resting his head, and carefully brought your mouth to where you’d been toying with him. You bit at his newly-erect nipple through the fabric; rolled it between your teeth as gently as you could muster. You still had a hand on his belly; you could feel the muscles well-concealed beneath his expansive midsection contract and pull at his girth. It felt decadent— _Anakin_ felt decadent; the act of touching him seemed a lot to you like many of the foods you liked to feed him: It was very rich, endlessly satisfying, and something you tended to find yourself craving often.

You’d definitely been craving Ani today.

“Hm...?” His cybernetic hand was resting on part of his midsection; you saw its fingers twitch, and at that you knew he was really waking up. You ceased biting on his nipple.

“Hey, you,” you said to him softly, and you dragged the hand you’d been using to touch his belly gently up the length of his body, finally resting it on the side of his face. He was indescribably lovely; you smiled as his eyes opened; revealed their perfect, blue tranquility.

“Hey,” he said back. He was quiet, but he smiled— Anakin was always happy to see you.

“I have something kind of special for us,” you told him, as you stroked a perfect, chubby cheek with your thumb.

“What is it?” he asked, as he started to wake up a bit more. He’d been laying on his natural arm, so he used it to prop himself up on the couch. He looked down, then, and noticed his shirt— which prompted him to use two of his bionic fingers to pinch the hem of it; try to pull it down. When it didn’t work for him, you attempted the same thing; however, trying to cover up his belly was an exercise in futility.

You each caught the other’s eye, and smiled. You rubbed a circle into his flesh in favour of trying to conceal it; answered him by sitting up taller and using your free hand to pluck a small bag from your back pocket.

“Do you know what day it is?” you asked him.

He appeared to think. “It’s the twentieth,” he said following a pause. After another moment of consideration, “...You bought something special for _Hitler’s birthday?_ You’re fucking weird; Hitler was an asshole.”

That earned him one of the little swats you liked to give him when he was being a jerk. Then, “ _No_ — smell this!” And you thrust the bag beneath his nose.

He laughed. _”Oh!_ ” As he pushed himself up into a seated position, you let your hand fall from him; joined him on the couch. He asked, “Where’d you get it?”

“The weed store,” you answered, as if it should have been obvious. They’d been popping up everywhere lately, after all.

“Oh,” he said again. “Right.” He took the bag from your hand, and held it up to the light. He smiled, “Neat. You know _you_ have to roll it, though, right?”

“I know,” you told him, and you took the bag from his hand. As you sat back down on the floor in front of the coffee table and began to set things up, Ani stretched and watched you.

“I love waiting up for you,” he said offhandedly as the sweet, acrid scent of your newly-purchased bud filled the room.

“I love when you try,” you smiled, because although he still typically failed when he tried to stay awake, he was always a delight to come home to— every single time.

“It might make me hungry,” he warned you coyly, as you broke the plant up with your fingers. It was sticky, but not _too_ sticky— a light-coloured indoor hybrid for which you hadn’t minded paying a slightly-higher price than what would have been typical.

“I hope it does,” you grinned, as you looked back over your shoulder at him. You weren’t about to rush your roll, but you also couldn’t wait to rejoin him on the sofa— particularly now that he’d made space. Causing Ani to become hungry had, of course, been something you’d specifically hoped to achieve in bringing home this particular sort of treat... even if he didn’t exactly need the help.

Ani, of course, was always at least a little bit hungry— whether it was for food, sex, or simple affection.

His ravenous appetite, in fact, might have been the thing you had always loved most about him. 

...

“This is _fantastic_ ,” he said, as he took a long haul off of the thick blunt you’d rolled for the two of you to share. He held in the smoke a moment; suppressed a cough before letting it out in a smooth-looking, white plume. He’d shed his shirt before you’d started smoking so as to provide you better access to him, and trying not to cough made his belly shake— he was enchanting.

“I knew this was a good idea,” you told him, as he passed you the ever-shrinking roll. You were snuggled up very closely to him on the sofa; you rested one hand on his middle as you drew in your next lungful of smoke. While you blew it out, you added, “You’ve been too good to me lately— you deserve something nice.”

As you had reflected upon many times before, Anakin made you feel very lucky: Not only was he ideal to you in nearly every conventional way you could think of; he was also perfect in ways you never imagined anyone would be willing (or able) to be for you. Between the way he treated you and the way he allowed you to treat him, he was utterly perfect. Even his moodiness and bouts of bad energy (which you’d always been willing to tolerate for the privilege of being with him) seemed to be all but dissolving, now that he was allowing you to unreservedly indulge his desire to be fattened.

He took his own toke after you handed the blunt back to him; chuckled at you, “I don’t deserve any of what you do for me— I don’t know how I managed to find someone like you.”

You patted his belly. “Do you really feel that way, Ani?”

As he passed back to you one more time (you had more weed left, but this particular roll had been smoked down to nearly nothing), “ _Yes_ — nobody else would ever do this for me, would they?” With his newly-freed natural hand, he gave the heaviest, softest part of his stomach a firm shake, followed by a squeeze. Anakin liked to touch himself, you’d come to realize... especially now that he’d become so large.

You pinched the roach between your fingers; leaned over to deposit it on the table where you’d rolled it. After that, you resumed being affectionate with Anakin: You ran both of your hands over him; grasped at the flesh of his thighs through his pants, and pressed on his belly. As you traced his stretch-marks some more, you raised your other hand to stroke the hair on his head. He responded very favourably to your touch; he squirmed and breathed, and when you leaned in even more closely to nip at his ear the way you liked best, he yelped in surprise before turning his head, and letting you kiss him deeply.

When you’d finished probing his sweet, greedy mouth with your tongue, you raked your nails gently across that expanding network of attractive red streaks on his side. Then, you stuck your thumb into his navel, and tried to see just how much of the soft flesh beneath it you could gather in the rest of your hand. Once you had a hold on an ample portion of his gut, you gave him a shake of your own; watched him ripple and jiggle. He moaned, and you grinned.

“You’re getting _so fat_ ,” you marvelled. You had barely meant to say it aloud, but you were too mired in a perfect haze of complete relaxation and near-total bliss to hold your tongue.

Ani, luckily, seemed to take it well; he looked down at himself and agreed, “I’m fucking enormous,” as he jabbed his own finger into his side. He smiled; let his gaze travel over the vastness that was his own body. 

You witnessed his eyes linger on his stretch-marks; decided to ask, “Do you like those as much as I do?”

Enthusiastically, “ _I love them—_ they mean you're taking care of me.”

You began to rub circles around the centre of his belly; however, not before stopping briefly to tease the little lines beginning to creep around his navel. You hoped you could make them both multiply, and darken in hue.

“Do you want more of them?” you asked. He let his own hand fall from himself; you took back the one you’d buried in his hair, and used it to squeeze at the fleshiest part of his chest. He reclined in his spot on the couch, then, so that it would be easier for you to play with his fat.

“I want as many of them as you’re willing to put on me,” he told you as his eyes closed and his head went back. “Remember? _I don’t want to stop._ ”

“You really do mean that, don’t you?” You hadn’t been entirely sure, before, but you were starting to come under the impression that there really was no firm limit to the amount of weight Anakin wanted you to help him gain. You took his stomach between your two hands and jostled it up and down, which made him make another sensuous noise.

“I mean it,” he breathed, and he shifted heavily as you resumed kneading him as though he were bread dough.

“You know I mean it, too,” you warned him playfully. “If you let me, I’ll make this belly of yours so big you’ll never see your own feet again.”

His eyes opened; he looked over at you. His plump little lips had turned up into a lovely smile, and as he peered up at you, you could hardly resist pinching the adorable roll of fat which had formed under his chin. As if you’d just offered him the best deal in the universe, he asked, “You’d _really_ do that for me— help me get that big?”

Without hesitation, “Of course I would, Ani— if that’s really, truly what you want.”

“I just want to be your fat boyfriend,” he said to you. “I want to be too fat to do anything _except_ be your boyfriend.”

“Like an overfed little pet?” you asked, because that was certainly the sort of arrangement it sounded like he was describing.

He laughed, and finally blushed— you had known that was coming. “Well... yes, exactly,” he told you. “Except, not ‘little’.” 

That made you laugh. “If you’re going to be my pet, then,” you said, “I should probably get you a nice collar, shouldn’t I?”

“A leash, too,” he suggested, without skipping a beat. 

“Oh— so I can tie you up when I have to leave the kitchen?” You pictured him at the counter with his gut hanging out, licking up your cake batter prematurely. Then, you thought about how he’d have looked kneeling on the floor, secured to the towel-rack on the wall by a thick leather strap. 

“And smack me in the belly when I’m bad,” he added.

“Are you _planning_ on being a bad boy?” You grabbed another handful of him and shook again; a bit more harshly, this time.

He drew a sharp breath in; let it out along with an enticing grunt— but, he didn’t answer you yet.

You couldn’t resist any longer: You simply had to climb up on his lap, when you heard the sound he made. Since he was leaning back, you actually had enough space to straddle his thighs. As you did, you placed your hands on him reverently, and while you pushed your fingers into his flesh, you assured him, “I’m always good to my pets, Ani.” Then, you leaned in over his belly so you could whisper closely, _”Even when they don’t behave for me.”_

You felt his breath hitch in his chest. Finally, he confessed to you, “I _love_ what you do to me when I’m bad.”

The things you did to Anakin when he was ‘bad’ included biting and sucking at the softest parts of him until you’d left deep-purple hickeys in the unique shape of your own mouth, stuffing him full of the richest foods you could think of so that he found himself scarcely able to move, and leaving crimson hand-prints atop the tortured-looking distension of his growing stomach.

And you knew he wasn’t lying— Ani loved every last bit of what you regularly imposed on him, and on his body.

You asked him again as you pulled your nails once more over the smooth, seemingly-boundless spread of his midsection, “Are you going to be ‘bad’ for me tonight?”

With a delightful whine, he answered, “I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to feed me— I’m fucking _starving._ ”

You grinned, because the little treat you’d brought home to Anakin had clearly had the exact effect you’d hoped it would. You leaned forward and thrust your tongue into his mouth again; thought about what you might like to fill him up with tonight. You contemplated, too, all of the different ways you could have him ask you for it.

After that, you pinched his belly. As he shouted into your kiss, you considered whether the collar you were going to order for him later on would be hewn from heavy leather, or something more delicate— like velvet. 

Whatever it was made of, though, one thing was certain: It would absolutely _have_ to be adjustable.


	10. Show Me

“Okay— lift your chin— _there._ ” 

You spoke very gently as you tugged the strap through the shiny metal loop attached to the end of Ani’s new collar; fastened it snugly (but not too snugly) around his neck. He was knelt before you; you were sitting on a chair in the kitchen— the same one you liked to put him in while he watched you cook. You had ended up opting for a leather collar; however, it was one which also happened to possess a soft, velvety lining. You’d selected it because it was supple and pretty just like him: Your not-so-little pet, after all, deserved for himself each and every bit of decadent comfort you could bestow.

As you used your fingertips to gingerly pull his hair out from between the strap and his skin, you asked, “How does that feel?” 

He looked up at you and smiled happily, “It feels wonderful.”

You cupped his cheek with one hand; used the other to stroke his hair. He seemed to nuzzle your palm affectionately, and that made you lean forward to kiss his head. “You’re such a good boy,” you told him.

“Good boys don’t get this fat,” he corrected you, brushing his lips over the surface of your skin. 

Maybe he would have been right, under normal circumstances— but, for Ani, you knew that becoming so big and soft had been key to the brighter outlook he seemed to have acquired recently. You loved how easygoing he was; little things that would have bothered him before didn’t anymore— instead of getting angry, now, Anakin simply got hungry. 

“I love you like this,” you reminded him. “And being this fat makes you happy, doesn’t it?”

“Happier then I ever thought I could be.” 

He raised his own hands; both of them, and placed one on each side of his gut. So much of his weight settled there; it was truly breathtaking. Not only did it stick far out in front of him, but it bulged pleasantly from the sides, too. You couldn’t even come close to getting your arms all the way around him anymore, when you hugged him from where he was most ample. You loved watching him touch himself, too; he always appeared so very satisfied with his newly-improved physique. Knowing that he loved the way his body was changing as much as you did always thrilled you. 

Lately, you had ramped-up your encouragement of his excessive food consumption even further; to any outside observer, it must certainly have looked as if he was losing complete control of himself. He was likely not far from doubling the weight at which he’d started this, and now appeared to become thicker and more round with each passing week— you had even resorted to buying clothes for him in bigger sizes before he came to need them, because you knew very well that he soon would.

He also frequently needed your help with his pants, now: His one good hand was highly-skilled; however, he couldn’t use it to both fasten his top button, and lift up his belly at the same time. Of course, you didn’t mind helping him; it made his body feel even more as if it belonged to you. Assisting him, in fact, _always_ made you want to feed and rub him; luckily for you, needing your help seemed to whet his appetite in return. 

You often revelled in helping him do up his jeans, only to watch him render them uncomfortably tight stuffing himself with pizza or doughnuts or something else he liked not long after. Following that, you’d have to help him again... and nothing was quite so satisfying as kneeling before Anakin to give him relief from his clothing. His stomach would burst forth and then hang heavily before you; you’d always lick at the little red lines from where his pants had bound him too tightly. Your tongue could easily distinguish them from his much more permanent stretch-marks; it was almost like winning a little game, every single time you played.

When you were done with that, you’d usually suck his cock with great enthusiasm while you grabbed at the underside of his belly, or slapped it. He still liked to buck into your mouth when he came for you; every time he had done so recently, you’d felt very nearly consumed: By his thighs, his bouncing stomach, the delicious taste of him, and the soft, deep mound of flesh at the very base of his cock. 

On _this_ night, Ani was completely naked— save for his new collar. You’d already been playing with him here in the kitchen when you’d heard the package hit the door. It had been obvious to you what it was right away; you’d been excitedly awaiting its arrival. He, perhaps, hadn’t taken you seriously when you said you thought he needed one; he’d been genuinely surprised to see you unwrap it. Once you had, though, his beautiful eyes had lit up, and a grin spread across his face. The eagerness he had exuded as he’d eased himself to the floor to offer you his neck was enticing, and so was the obvious glee with which he wore his new bondage right now.

“You look incredible wearing that, Ani— it goes with _this_ ,” you told him, as you reached down to hook a fingertip into his bellybutton and give him a jiggle.

His eyes fluttered shut and he bit his lip; stifled a moan. “...You _were_ about to feed me before we heard the door, weren’t you?” he asked, as he looked at you again. He sounded just a bit nervous; as if he thought you might have forgotten.

“I was,” you confirmed, as you dragged your hand over the obvious protrusion of his belly, and up toward his chest. You’d already shared a very generous meal together just an hour or two prior to receiving the collar... but, of course, you knew just what Ani was like. “Do you want something sweet?” you asked him, knowing very well that the answer would be some form of ‘yes’.

“I want the frosting you made,” he said, surprising you with the specificity of his request. He added, “I know it’s in there,” as he motioned toward the refrigerator.

He was right— you _had_ made frosting, but for once it hadn’t been for him. You laughed, “That’s supposed to be for work!” Someone in your office was retiring, and you had been enlisted to make them a cake to mark the occasion. Everyone knew you could bake, after all— they’d seen your boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But it’s the vanilla custard one, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

He shifted on his knees; gave you his most charming grin. “Well,” he told you, “that’s not fair— that one’s my favourite.”

“I thought chocolate buttercream was your favourite.”

He paused; considered. “...It’s my _other_ favourite, then.”

You chuckled at him again as you started to get up to go to the fridge. “I never can say no to you,” you said, as you shook your head. 

He remained on the floor. When you looked back at him, you couldn’t stop yourself from gazing in awe at the way he looked from behind, kneeling in wait for you. The curvature of his back was still distinct and beautiful, and when he moved about, you got the privilege of seeing the perfect roll of flesh which had formed where his chest segued into his side. His ass was wide and plush and perfectly round, with a few lovely little dimples; you loved the way he would sometimes yelp when you slapped it in a frenzy of passion. His thickened thighs were quivering right now with the sustained exertion of supporting him by his knees— and they were perfectly marred by both the odd stretch-mark, and little groups of hickeys in various stages of healing.

Fat piled atop muscle had rendered his biceps thick and pliable; you loved to squeeze them— and were thankful, for his sake, that the tight black wrapping which attached his right forearm to the rest of his body was as highly adjustable as his new collar in how well it could stretch to accommodate him. You’d always loved the contrast between that arm and the rest of him, and the divergence was only emphasized, now: Sleek, technological elegance and raw, sensual flesh made for an absolutely ideal combination.

Once you brought your mind back online (Ani really was distracting), you rooted through the fridge to get to your container of homemade frosting. You’d made at least half a pound of it; likely a bit more than that, and it was extremely rich. Almost as an afterthought, you grabbed the last of the cream you’d used to make it, as well— maybe he’d like something to drink once he was finished.

“I’m back,” you smiled, as you set the icing and cream down on the table beside your chair. You knelt beside him; grabbed a handful of his ass as you reached under his belly to pump his cock, which had apparently grown quite stiff as he’d waited for you. “Do you want to sit in the chair?” you offered. Watching his thighs tremble was delightful; but again, if Anakin was your pet, you truly wanted to spoil him— make him as comfortable and happy as you possibly could.

It seemed, though, that Ani had other ideas.

“No,” he said. “I don’t want to get up until you’re finished feeding me.”

“Oh?”

“...I like to be on my knees while I eat for you.” It came out as though it were a confession; he was so sweet.

“Alright,” you said, as you got back up and sat in the chair again. As you opened the container of icing, you said, “Shit— I forgot a spoon.”

He was the one who laughed at you this time. “What the fuck do we need a spoon for?” he asked. He’d resumed wearing that adorable, mischievous grin of his.

And he was right— you didn’t need a spoon to feed him. Especially not something like _this._

You didn’t answer him with words, because you didn’t have to: Instead, you dipped two fingers into the thick, creamy vanilla concoction. It stuck fast to you in a big, sweet glob; before you lowered it down to Anakin’s hungry lips, you took a tiny bit of it on your own tongue. You leaned in and kissed him; let him taste it off of you first, because it was simply so much fun.

He groaned happily as he pulled away, and shook some hair out of his face. “That’s amazing,” he said. “It’s even better than last time.” 

“You’re _very_ inspiring,” you told him, as you finally brought your hand to his mouth. He took your fingers right to the base, weaved his tongue between them, and sucked hard in order to clean the last of his treat from off your skin. Your finger grazed his teeth on its way out, and that sent a strong surge of arousal coursing through you. You gathered some more icing on your hand.

“I thought you said this was for work,” he pointed out, before he started to eat it up.

“It was,” you told him. “But do you think I could have made something like this _without_ thinking about putting it in your mouth?”

After swallowing and licking his lips, “Were you really thinking about me while you were making it?” 

“I’m always thinking about you, Anakin,” you said. He craned his neck desperately upward at that; you knew that although he certainly loved your frosting, right now he was requesting another kiss. You did oblige, but not before hooking a single, sticky finger underneath his collar and telling him, “I love you more than anything,” even though you were completely certain that he already knew.

“Show me,” he breathed, and by that you knew he meant he wanted you to prove your feelings for him by testing the limits of his capacity; display for him your unfettered appreciation of his swollen bulk.

You took your fingers back from his collar, and reached down to press a hand into the middle of his belly. You could tell that he was stuffed behind the sublime layer of fat you pushed your hand into; however, he was also fleshy enough, now, that you were more than able to relish the sensation of his warmth creeping between your fingers as they sank into him covetously. 

“Eat for me,” you answered, and although you really didn’t want to take your hand away from his midsection, you did anyhow so that you could dip it back into the frosting, and feed him some more. 

It was only when you leaned over to take in his belly from a different angle that you saw the floor between his legs, and noticed his cock had become so excited that it had leaked right onto the tile. 

You smiled, because while you’d been thrilled with his fantastic behaviour tonight, you had also been secretly burning with a white-hot desire to finally tell him he’d been ‘bad’.

You’d have to remember to thank him— later— for the opportunity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next one is going to be a direct continuation of this chapter ‘cause this is just such a nice night for them and they haven’t played with the collar enough yet.


	11. Bath Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I _was_ asked, I laid out the ‘numbers’ of this story for someone in the comments. I hadn’t yet, but only because I don’t think in digits! If you do, though, our beautiful boy is exactly 6 feet tall & likely started this adventure at close to 180lb. By now he’s been (very) intentionally gaining weight for many months & is probably just a little over 300lb. 
> 
> He’s also still not done. 🥰

“Oh, Ani— look at how much you love this!”

Anakin could only gasp and writhe as you ran your hands up and down the smooth, slick expanse of his torso. You’d heaved him up from his knees (it had actually taken two attempts) after helping him to finish off your frosting and cream; then, after chiding him playfully for what he’d done to the floor with his over-excited (and still-present) hard-on, you’d noticed that the rest of him had become a little bit messy, too.

His face had been smeared with creamy-white icing; it had ended up all over his belly as well, because you hadn’t been able to resist reaching down to touch him between the handfuls of it you had relished feeding him. Now, of course, you were fixing that: You’d taken him upstairs after helping him up, and had practically dragged him by that beautiful (and useful) new collar of his to the washroom. You were very excited to have an opportunity to get him wet.

One of the reasons you’d selected this home initially had been the luxurious size of its jacuzzi-style bathtub; you were especially happy, now, that it had appealed to you so much when you’d first moved in. You and Ani had recently discovered together that he’d grown much too fat to jam himself into most restaurant booths; he’d even had to adjust the seat in his car more than once to compensate for his growth. Observations such as these made you suppose that to squeeze into a regular-sized tub, at this point, would have been a stretch for him.

Fortunately, the one you had was still more than large enough to accommodate his new size— even if he did tend to displace a lot of water. 

“Hit me,” he breathed. He was reclined face-up in the foam; he arched his back as he begged for your hand, forcing his belly to rise up from the surface. You were knelt beside him on the floor, already having rid yourself of your clothes; simply admiring the sight.

“You _have_ been bad,” you said, and you patted his gut gently once or twice before drawing back and giving him exactly what he’d wanted: A very hard smack with your palm. 

You’d hoped to catch him a little off-guard, and maybe you did: He shouted loudly; bucked heavily. The sight of the water lapping at his sides as it settled in the tub made you stare; you reached down into the bath, and squeezed an incredibly fleshy thigh with one hand while drawing wet lines all over his stomach with the fingers of the other. The lack of gravity under the water made him feel even softer than he would normally have, which caused you to throb excitedly.

It also made you slap him again, to which he drew in a sharp breath through his teeth and groaned, _”Fuck!”_

“I’m glad you still fit in the bath,” you grinned, “but what are we going to do with you once you don’t anymore?” You took a generous handful of fat from his chest; squeezed what now amounted to a chubby little breast, and gripped him as if you somehow expected to draw something from his nipple. You didn’t, of course... but the act of milking him was ultimately very satisfying.

That might have been because of the way it made him react: First, he squirmed; he was so big now that doing so always looked to be somewhat of an effort, and it was gorgeous. After squirming, he shut his eyes tightly and whined your name; you reinforced your grip on him, and used your free hand to splash a bit of water up onto his protruding stomach. Some of it got caught in his navel, and then dripped down his side and back into the bath in a way that made you want to catch as many of the droplets as you could with your tongue— so, you leaned in closely and did just that.

After moaning his approval, he pulled open his lids and looked at you as you drew back from him. The way he gazed was beautiful; his eyes were desperate, and at the same time you could— as always— see in them just how much he loved you.

“I have no idea,” he answered. “But I know you’ll figure something out. You really do want this as badly as I do, don’t you?”

“I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” you admitted to him. You really did: The more of his body he gave to you, the more you craved. “The fatter I make you,” you said, “the fatter I need you to be.” 

You placed both hands on his belly and kneaded him with your fingers before starting to happily trace his stretch-marks. There were more of them than there’d been only weeks ago; the natural paleness of his skin invited them to stand out. They marred him perfectly, and every time their winding labyrinth expanded outward, you knew you were succeeding in pampering him the way you both loved most. 

"Then I'm yours," he breathed, "I'll eat as much as you want to feed me, for as long as you want me to keep getting bigger." You'd taken both his collar, and his right arm off of him prior to the bath so as not to get it wet; however, he raised his left hand as he spoke and began to rub himself; fingered his own belly-button, too. He was perfect.

You felt yourself becoming more and more excited; both at the way he looked before you right now, and at the way you knew he'd look in short time if you continued to fatten him. You left a hand on his belly, but brought the other up to cup his face; stroked the fat under his chin with your thumb. As you leaned over the edge of the tub to steal a few kisses, you warned him in a hushed tone, "If it's up to me, you really are going to get too fat to move." Then you asked him, "Are you ready for that, Anakin?"

You could have sworn you saw a hint of anxiety flash through his eyes; however, that fear was quickly replaced by a distinct, very hungry-looking enthusiasm. The steam permeating the air had made the parts of him above the water start to sweat; you hadn't yet wet his hair, but it was both damp and sticking to him. He stopped fondling his girth; with a grunt, he pushed himself into a more upright position. You didn't back away; found yourself nose-to-nose with him, in fact, as he rose from the water, which settled so that it was level with his navel. You couldn’t help but glance down briefly to savour the sight of the surface licking at it as he shifted.

Once you’d resumed eye-contact with him, he touched your face in much the same way as you’d touched his. His hand was warm and wet; you couldn’t help but gasp at the sensation of it softly caressing your cheek. This seemed to help him as much as it was enjoyable for you— he appeared to steel himself through the act of touching you prior to answering your query, “If that’s how fat you really want me, then that’s exactly how fat I’ll get.”

His proclamation made you happy; happier, in fact, than you could ever have predicted it would. You’d been wondering for a long time precisely how much leeway Ani would give you as far as control over his body was concerned; until very recently, he hadn’t seemed so certain himself. You’d toyed, mutually, with the idea of simply allowing him to grow infinitely larger; however, placing that collar around his neck almost appeared to mark a turning-point... if not in your relationship, then certainly in his willingness to honestly communicate his ultimate desire to you.

You cherished the fact that he wasn’t afraid to tell you what he really needed.

“I’ll do _everything_ for you, Ani,” you promised. “I meant what I said before. Do you remember?” Your heart started to beat faster; you could feel your mouth (among other things) practically begin to water at the idea of slowly immobilizing him.

“I remember,” he assured you. He kissed the side of your mouth; added, “And I still trust you.”

“So it really is up to me?” you asked. Again, it always mattered to you how Ani felt.

“Really,” he said, and he pulled back from you just enough to see your face. “From now on, consider me yours— every part of me; inside and out.” 

You felt your breath catch in your throat. _”Mine,”_ you breathed softly, and you looked him up-and-down; took in every inch of his perfectly-swollen form. 

He seemed to feel your staring quite deeply; his face went red and he admitted, “...I sometimes still can’t believe you want me like this.”

“I’ve never wanted you more,” you told him in no uncertain terms; followed by, “I can’t stop thinking about what I’m going to do to you.” You reached for a bottle of body-wash; popped open the top of it. This promoted him to lay back, because he really was a very good boy— even on nights like this one, where he’d gone and made a mess.

“I don’t care what you do to me,” he said, “as long as you don’t _stop_ wanting me.”

“Nothing could ever make me stop wanting you, Anakin,” you reminded him, as you began to drizzle a plentiful amount of sweet-smelling soap onto his stomach. You seemed to have to remind him of that a lot, really, but it certainly didn’t bother you. The only thing you enjoyed more than making Ani feel full was, perhaps, making him feel loved.

He must have felt loved right now, because as you began to rub the body-wash you’d poured atop his belly into a rich lather, he arched his back again to give you better access. You spread the foam all over him; from his chest, right on down to the bottom portion of that big, heavy stomach you’d just decided to continue to grow indefinitely. You soaped his stretch-marks, and your own palm prints; dug your thumb into his navel, too, and adored how he whimpered in response. The way your hands glided over his slick skin perfectly emphasized the sheer roundness of him; you were so happy he loved having that belly as much as you’d loved helping him to achieve it.

Once you’d taken your time with his midsection, you proceeded to thoroughly enjoy washing the rest of him as well. You carefully soaped and rinsed his face, and his hair, too; took great pleasure in the way his pretty amber tendrils curled onto his neck and shoulders. You lifted both of his arms and each of his legs out of the water in turn; lathered, massaged, and rinsed them lovingly as you thought about biting his thighs.

Again, watching him move about in the water was a treat: Gently, you ordered him to turn and shift for you. No part of him went untouched as he twisted that beautiful, growing body of his so that you could slide your hands over it. He was so smooth and your hand so slick that there wasn’t even the slightest bit of friction present to interrupt your enjoyment of his flesh. Eventually, he did end up on his one hand and both of his knees in the tub; when that happened, you were unable to resist taking a greedy handful of his ass and raking your nails along the milky spread of his skin.

“Are you ready to come out, Ani?” you asked, and he looked back at you over his shoulder; nodded as he peered at you with those needy eyes. Before you allowed him to move so that he could stand, you dragged a single finger right down the centre of his lovely cheeks; teased his hole on the way to stroking his sack. He whined and tensed; you knew he wanted you to grab his cock, but you didn’t— not quite yet.

After that, finally, he heaved himself up onto his knees. You stood, and put out your hand so that you could use it to grab the good one of his arms; help him out of the bath. You did, and immediately wrapped him up in a big, fluffy towel which had been set close-by. 

“I love you,” you told him, while you sponged his hair gently, and patted dry every one of your favourite parts of his body.

When he professed his own adoration for you in return, you reached down to where you’d set his collar prior to the bath; fastened it once more around his neck. With a soft tug of the little metal loop at the front, you led him to the bedroom; had him splay himself face-up for you on the bed. 

“ _Please_ let me taste you,” he begged, and you obliged by crawling up onto the mattress and proceeding to carefully straddle his face— Anakin loved to lick and lap at you that way. His belly stuck out far enough now that you could no longer lean over it to adequately access his cock with your mouth in this position, so you reached around it with one hand instead and began to stroke him. He seemed to love that; he groaned into your crotch and bucked into your palm as you pulled your free hand back to smack his gut.

Very soon, his highly-adept lips had rendered your legs weak and your breath short; you clambered off of him and around to where his hard-on was waiting for you. You took him eagerly into your mouth; sucked and nipped as you turned your eyes upward, and were met with a singular, glorious view of the underside of his belly. 

_”Thank you,”_ he cried out ardently, and then— after being fed, teased, bathed, and finally teased some more— he unhitched himself into the back of your throat, just the way you knew he liked. You let his cock soften as it drained contentedly onto your tongue; rubbed and squeezed great handfuls of his fat as the pace of his breathing started to slow.

Once you were satisfied that you’d drawn out all you could of his delicious essence, you met him at the head of the bed; stretched out alongside him while you reverently caressed his stomach with your hand.

“You’re perfect, Ani, and you’re _mine_ — I’m never, ever going to let you go,” you said. You sidled as closely to him as you could; kissing his face, and cuddling up to his belly.

“I couldn’t be without you,” he whispered, as he closed his eyes. _”I need you.”_

“I know,” you answered softly, before allowing your own lids to fall shut. You wanted to add that you needed him just the same— _and_ that you were entirely committed to making absolutely certain the two of you would always remain essential to one another.

Instead of telling him with words, however, you simply slid your hand in between your bodies; hooked your finger into that shiny little loop on the front of his collar. You pulled gently, and when he grunted quietly in response, you knew that he’d understood exactly what you were trying to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me waking up on any given morning & wondering which Ani I should play with today: 🧐
> 
> Also me, once I’ve picked the chunky one: 🤤


	12. The Beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not actually very porny, which I’ll make up for next time. It’s also a bit long. It was a lot of fun to write, though, and it really works for me. 🤷
> 
> Come to think of it, this story as a whole might end up being very, very long... there’s a lot to be done with Fat Ani & I don’t see myself not wanting to write about him like this any time soon. 💕

“I fucking hate sand.”

“I brought a blanket— and anyway, there’s grass, too; not just sand.”

“Everyone’s going to stare.”

“I thought you _liked_ that.”

“ _I do—_ I just wanted to remind you that it’s the only reason I’m here.”

You laughed, and closed the trunk of your car with a loud thump. By some miracle, you had convinced Ani to come with you to the beach. You’d just arrived, and were very excited to spend the day with him here. It had both recently and suddenly become more than hot enough outside to enjoy the sun; you thought this would be the perfect place to do just that. Maybe Anakin didn’t quite agree, but you’d never entirely understood his aversion to sand. 

Really, you were just happy to be here with him; told him so as you slung your bag over your shoulder and took him by the hand. “Don't worry,” you said, “I’ll make it worth your while— I promise.”

He squeezed your fingers in spite of himself, and you could hear the smile creep into his voice as he answered you with, “I’m holding you to that, you know.”

“Good,” you said, and because he was hanging back a bit in spite of your having grasped his hand, you peered behind yourself to get a glimpse of him. He looked absolutely stunning with the sun beating down on him; it was early in the day, but already very bright. His hair shone brilliantly; the shade reflected off of it by the sunlight was a beautiful variation on the colour of straw. Once he got his shirt off, too, you knew that it would be easier than ever to appreciate the unblemished (save for those delicious stretch-marks you loved to put on him) perfection of his skin. 

Right now, you could tell that he was already beginning to sweat... which you knew meant that you would not have to wait very long for him to begin peeling off whatever clothes he could. You liked that, but you also very much liked to watch his bulk shift about beneath a tract of fabric which seemed to bind him just a _bit_ too tightly. You enjoyed the sight presently; even ventured to point out, “You haven’t worn that shirt in a little while, have you?”

That finally made him break out into a grin. “Not for months,” he said. Then, more coyly, “Does it still look okay?”

You stopped in your tracks; let go of his hand and turned around so that you could take him in more completely. His shirt had certainly become too small for him (more accurately, he’d become too big for it); not only could you see the divot indicating his navel with absolute clarity, but he also happened to be gifting you a lovely little sliver of the bottom of his belly as it hung over the waistband of the shorts he’d elected to wear today. Those, at least, actually did fit— no matter what he was wearing, Ani’s stomach could scarcely ever be entirely contained; not anymore.

“It looks absolutely incredible, and so do you,” you told him, with utmost honestly. As you stepped a bit closer to him (close enough to place a hand on his middle, anyway) you added to that, “...Do you have any idea how much I’ve always wanted to come here with you?” You had, in fact, wanted to attend the beach with Anakin last summer: It had been your first year together with him, and you’d have expected someone who looked like he belonged in a fitness magazine to love the idea of showing himself off by the water. 

He had, however, outright refused; actually become rather annoyed with you for suggesting the trip, if you recalled correctly. You’d likely not have bothered to make the offer again this year if it weren’t for the extra weight you’d helped him gain over the months. It really had seemed to change his demeanour for the better (you could scarcely remember the last time he’d been genuinely angry with you), and his presence here today was proof of that. 

“I’m sorry I was a dick about it last year,” he told you, as if to bolster your evaluation of his altered outlook. “...And I’m sorry if I was a dick on the way here, too.”

“It’s okay,” you said, and you both continued on your walk toward the water’s edge. “What _is_ it about the sand, though? You never did tell me.”

Not without some drama, he scowled and shuddered. “I just don’t like it,” he insisted. “You’ll see— by the time we leave, your bag will be full of it. It’ll be all over the blanket, caught up in our clothes, _and_ in the car, too.” He shook his head; went quiet after that. You shook yours too, because you thought he was being silly... but, you weren’t about to tell him that, since he was also being kind.

Very soon, you had arrived with him at what you believed to be the perfect spot: It was in the sun, but with shade nearby; there was plenty of grass to spare Ani from suffering the full effect of the beach’s sand, and it was still close enough to the water that you could smell the salt in the air. You set your bag down, took out your blanket, and began to spread it over a soft tract of green. You sat down on it contentedly, and motioned for Anakin to join you. 

After shooting one last disdainful glance in the direction of the sandier portion of the landscape, he did— but not before using his natural arm to grasp the hem of his shirt and peel it off of himself, just as you had predicted he would. He likely hadn’t meant for it to look quite as sensual as it did; however, you revelled in the sight of him stripping out of his top for you. Even the gleaming metal comprising his prosthetic arm looked fantastic reflecting the sun’s light; every single part of him was always perfectly enchanting to you.

“That’s better,” he said as he lowered himself to the ground. You watched his belly settle on his lap as he sat down with his legs stretched straight out in front of him. He was getting so _big_ — his appearance almost seemed to invite you to not only knead at him, but to climb him, too. 

“You’re right,” you grinned. “It is.” You moved immediately to be closer to him; leaned your head on the shoulder of his good arm as you absentmindedly grasped and squeezed some of his chest.

“You sure like to grab at my tits, don’t you?” he asked, but he graciously did not try to stop you from doing so.

“Sorry,” you told him. “You’re perfect; I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

He laughed, “I wasn’t complaining— you can grab them all you want.”

You almost climbed up onto him right then for the express purpose of beginning to play with them; however, you were suddenly reminded of something. “Hey,” you said as you sat up straight to look at him, “I brought sunscreen— you want some?” Ani was fairly pale, and he had a lot of exposed skin that could get burnt. Besides that, you happened to have been craving the simple pleasure of spreading something slick and oily over his body for a number of days now; this was an ideal opportunity to satisfy that urge.

“Sure,” he said, followed almost as if he’d read your mind by, “But, only if _you’re_ the one who puts it on me.”

“Gladly!” You still loved that Anakin was not opposed to telling you what he wanted; happy, too, that he did not object to your near-constant desire to place your hands on him.

Just as you twisted around to retrieve the lotion from your bag, however, you heard a voice you didn’t recognize say his name.

“Anakin...?” its source asked tentatively. “Is... that you?” 

You looked first at Ani; then upward along with him.

“Padmé,” he said; followed by, “It’s definitely me— how have you been?”

“I’ve— um, I’m fine,” she answered haltingly. “What about... well, what about _you?_ ”

You tilted your head at her; tried to make eye contact, but she was too busy staring at Ani to look at you right now. He’d told you a bit about her before; shared a few stories, but not in very much detail. All you really knew of his relationship with her was that it had lasted a while, and that he’d been hurt when it ended. You weren’t about to be rude; however, that knowledge did not necessarily endear you to her.

“I’ve actually been feeling pretty fantastic,” he grinned. He did so in a way which you would not quite have expected, but were glad of nonetheless. He proceeded to introduce you; however, his ex did not appear nearly as interested in meeting his new partner as she did in running her eyes repeatedly over his vastly-altered form.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said somewhat dismissively in your direction, before turning her attention back to Anakin and observing, “You look... _different_. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told her, and you glanced over at him long enough to register the smirk into which he drew his lips as the words left his mouth. You already had the bottle of sunscreen in your hand by that point, and were nearly overcome with a sudden urge to simply begin rubbing it all over his gut; however, you resisted... for now.

Padmé tried once more, “I just meant that you seem... um...”

Since she was clearly struggling with her words, he decided to help her out: “...Happier? I _feel_ happier.” He sounded distinctly mischievous as he prompted her, “That _is_ what you mean, isn’t it?”

“Well, not exactly— I mean, it’s _good_ that you’re happy— but what I actually meant was that, um—”

 _”Oh!”_ He interrupted her by feigning a sudden realization; placed his hands on his own stomach and glanced between his girth and Padmé’s face as he finally asked, “You mean _this_ don’t you?”

“W-well...”

This time you were the one who interjected to assist her— having just seen the expression on Ani’s face, you were positive that he wouldn’t mind. “I’ve been taking good care of him— maybe it shows,” you suggested as you finally caught her eye with yours, and scooted closer to Ani on the blanket. For good measure, you reached out and gave his belly a gentle pat with the hand you weren’t using to hold the sunscreen. 

“It was you who... uh... _did_ this to him, then...?” she asked, perhaps unable to think of a more tactful way to phrase her question. Maybe, too, she thought it unfathomable that you would purposefully overfeed him (or allow him to overfeed himself) to quite the extent she was witnessing presently.

You nodded, and—without dropping the lotion— put your arms around Anakin lovingly as you continued to look up at his former girlfriend. She seemed terribly put-off by his weight gain, and he appeared to very much enjoy the awkwardness his enhanced physique was inspiring between them. Perhaps she was the reason he thought you’d be upset with him when he started to get fat? You could only assume; however, it certainly was beginning to look that way.

“I just couldn’t get enough of him,” you confirmed for her suggestively, as you sneakily traced lines into his side with your finger— the implication, of course, being that since you had found his body so irresistible to begin with, you’d wanted to make even more of it for yourself to enjoy.

“That’s...”

Anakin cut her off, this time with an incredibly sensuous moan he couldn’t seem to hold back in response to your fingertips’ gently dancing over his skin. You almost felt guilty, but when Padmé’s face went red and Anakin grinned widely at her, you knew that you had nothing to feel bad about.

“... _nice,_ ” she finished. “Um, it’s nice. It was also nice meeting your new... uh... _companion,_ ” she settled on saying, before hastily making an excuse to leave. You watched her walk off together, and then looked at one another. Just as you’d been unable to stop yourselves from doing after Anakin’s work party, you both burst out laughing at her reaction to the simple knowledge that he was both fat and happy. She might have heard you, because you could have sworn she glanced backward on her way to the other end of the waterfront, but it didn’t seem to matter to Ani.

Without saying a word, he took the bottle of lotion from your hand, popped the top of it open with his thumb, and squirted a generous glob of it right onto where his gut started to stick out.

You understood very well what he wanted for you to do, and so you eagerly took your arms from around him and began to use your palms to smooth the slick, white, pleasant-smelling substance all over your favourite part of him. He put his head back, closed his eyes, and enjoyed your touch; clearly, he was more than happy to show himself off at the beach now that you’d been ‘helping’ him for so many months. 

It never ceased to amaze you just how much a few (dozen) extra pounds of beautiful flesh had improved not only Anakin’s outlook, but your relationship and your lives together as well.

The rest of the day, you knew, was going to be fantastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inclusion of Padmé in this chapter isn’t meant to imply anything about Anakin’s sexuality or reader’s gender— if your Reader is male, then Ani is bi; that’s cool. I just wanted to slip the ex in here because I think her reaction to him (and his reaction to her) is hot.


	13. Large Booths

Leaving work on this particular day was an exciting prospect. Not only were you getting off early; you also knew that Ani was on his way to pick you up. He’d told you earlier in the afternoon that he had good news to share, and you couldn’t wait to find out just what it was he wanted to tell you. 

Happily, you waited at the curb outside of your office; couldn’t help but grin as you watched his vehicle approach. Aside from your anticipation, you simply loved to see the way Anakin’s body looked when it was jammed into a car that somehow always seemed to be shrinking. It had been a little while since your trip to the beach, and although the pace of his growth had appeared to have slowed down recently, your mutual enjoyment of his enormous increase in size still could not seem to be quelled.

Ani, for his part, had expressed a fear of hitting a plateau, so to speak: If he was to eventually become too large to get up and walk around, after all, he couldn’t _stop_ putting on weight; not now. You supposed that his fear happened to be the reason you had cause to pick up and move out of your way a freshly-emptied box of doughnuts before sitting down in the passengers’ seat. 

“Hey,” he scolded as you went to toss it into the back of the car. “There’s still one left in there.”

“You mean you couldn’t finish them?” you asked, before teasing, “Did you get too full, Ani?”

“It takes a lot more than twelve of those things to fill me up, and you know it,” he said, before informing you sweetly, “I saved one because while I was eating the rest of them, I started to miss you.” 

You understood precisely what he meant. “I get to feed you the last one, then?” You knew you sounded hopeful.

“Of course you do,” he grinned, “and I’ll still be hungry after that.”

You smiled back at him, opened up the box, and retrieved from it a big, beautiful-looking powdered doughnut that had been pumped so full of strawberry filling it seemed as though it might burst in your hand. As you leaned over the centre console, you placed a hand on his gut, and gave the fattest part of him an affectionate shake. “Open up, Ani,” you told him eagerly. You always enjoyed feeding him things that tended to make a mess.

“I love you,” he said. Then, he opened his mouth for you. The first bite he took coated his lips with powdered sugar; the second left him with an enticing dribble of sticky, red ooze on his chin. The third and final portion of the lovely treat he’d saved for you to feed him ended up mostly on your fingers; you let him lick you clean before leaning in further to get a kiss from him. 

“You taste like heaven,” you told him, as you pulled away to sit back in your spot, and moved to buckle up your seat-belt. You couldn’t help but notice the way Ani’s own belt bound him very tightly; not to mention just how far back he’d had to adjust his seat to drive. You relished taking in the way his belly rested on the upper part of his thighs, and seemed to strain the buttons on his shirt. (It was wonderful, you thought, that he still frequently opted to wear tops that buttoned up.) Once you’d finished staring, you remembered what he’d told you earlier; finally asked, “What’s your good news, anyway?”

He chuckled as he wiped the last of what was on his mouth away with his sleeve and answered with a wry look on his face, “I’m going to be doing a lot less moving around from now on— my boss told me I can work from home.”

“You’re kidding! Did he really say that?” The idea of Anakin sitting in front of his computer at home all day greatly appealed to you. You couldn’t help but imagine all of the snacking you knew he was going to do; realized that you’d have to go shopping for some of his favourite foods. You definitely wanted the house to be fully-stocked with calorie-rich treats if he was going to be working there.

As he touched his own stomach with his natural hand, he nodded. “They said it was to ‘reduce overhead costs’, but what I think they _really_ meant was that they didn’t want to have to start buying special chairs and shit like that for me.” 

That was reasonable, you supposed— you’d seen Ani try to sit down in your desk chair at home; he could hardly squeeze his ass in between its arms anymore. Most chairs with sides or armrests, really, had started to become off-limits to him. Even when he _could_ manage to shove himself into the space, he tended to bulge and spill over the edges. You revelled in the way it looked, but you’d also had to help pry him out of his seat more than once. It was a very pleasant job... although not necessarily an easy one.

“You’re officially too fat for the office!” you exclaimed, perhaps a bit more excitedly than you had intended.

Ani blushed, but he also agreed with a laugh, “I guess everybody at work is noticing what an enormous pig you’re turning me into.”

“You’re _beautiful_ , Anakin... and you’re _my_ enormous pig,” you reminded him, to which he merely grinned, and asked you where you wanted to go for dinner. 

He was yours now more than ever, you realized, as you considered his question while reaching over to stroke his thigh through his pants. Part of what you loved about helping your boyfriend become so fat was that it couldn’t possibly be hidden; not from either of you, and certainly not from the general public. He was big enough to turn heads almost everywhere he went at this point, and you never tried to conceal your appreciation of his size. You loved the idea of his body belonging to you, and knowing that you would now be the one to ensure that he was well-fed and taken care of while he stayed at home full-time brought you immeasurable joy.

It was more fun than ever to watch him try to contort his body so that he could use his good hand to turn the key in the car’s ignition... but, to spare him the effort, you let go of his leg and started the engine up again for him.

His face was still pink as he thanked you, and began to drive off in the direction of the restaurant you finally suggested. It was a huge, cafeteria-style eatery... one that you knew happened to have _very_ large booths.

...

“Fuck,” said Anakin.

“Hm?”

“I’m— well, I think I’m stuck.”

You looked across the table at Ani, and it turned out that he was right: Although the booths at this particular establishment had been constructed in a way which had allowed him to slide _into_ one of them with relative ease, sliding _out_ (particularly after a very large meal) seemed to be another issue altogether. 

“Are you sure?” you asked. “Can’t you just... I don’t know, suck it all in for a second and wiggle out of there?”

“‘Suck it in’?” he echoed incredulously, as he looked down at the edge of the table digging into his ample belly. You supposed that had been a silly suggestion, but you also weren’t sure what else to try. He’d been sitting in the same place since you had arrived, and it appeared as if he’d stuffed himself to a greater extent than either of you had realized. 

“You’re right,” you conceded, before he said anything else. “Here— I’ll just pull the table back and you can slide out.” You grabbed onto it from the side on which you were sitting, and tried to bring it toward you... but, it was no use: The table currently locking Ani into his seat just so happened to be attached to the floor with bolts.

“Shit,” he muttered next, as he uselessly attempted to shimmy his way out of his bind. He looked across at you a bit desperately; asked, “...What are we going to do?”

“Um... well, I could ask someone who works here to see if they could—”

“...Could _what_? Call a guy to pry the table up with a crowbar?” He didn’t seem upset, exactly, but it was clear that Anakin was feeling his predicament quite acutely. Part of you was absolutely delighted by the sight of him this way; another, more practical part of you was at a loss for what to do. A glance around the room as you stood up told you that a few of the restaurant’s other patrons had become aware of Ani’s current challenge; you detected a number of stares, and even a whisper or two as well.

You weren’t sure what to say or do; luckily, just then, a different voice piped up. “...Sir?” one of the staff members asked tentatively in Ani’s direction. “Sir, do you— um, do you need some... help?” She was as tactful as a person could possibly be in this sort of situation as she approached the table, but the crimson blush from the car returned to Anakin’s face anyhow.

“I- I just need— uh—”

 _”...He’s stuck in the booth,”_ you whispered to her, sparing your poor, pudgy boyfriend the embarrassment of saying as much loudly enough that she could hear.

She smiled kindly. “This... well, _happens_ sometimes,” she told you. Then, she looked down at Ani. “The tables don’t move, unfortunately, but we can probably tip the booth back enough to let you out— would you like to try that, Sir?”

All he could do was nod; thankfully, there was a large man from the kitchen standing by to help. He was, indeed, able to shift the seat back _just_ enough to allow Ani to stumble out of it. The process was effective, but not at all subtle. By the time you had gathered your things, thanked the staff, and managed to make your way to the front door, nearly the entire establishment had taken notice of you. Stares came from every direction; you could have sworn you heard a giggle or two. Ani’s face was still beet-red, but he was grinning like a maniac... and, of course, so were you.

He trailed behind you slightly on the way out to the car; between the thickness of his thighs and the fullness of his belly, he couldn’t help but waddle just a little bit. As you turned around to offer to be the one to drive this time, you were met with an exquisite surprise: Ani, with his impeccably-skilled natural hand, had begun to undo his shirt. It was open nearly to his navel, and he was unbuttoning it even further than that; tugging it out of his noticeably-tight waistband. You gazed at his stomach; admired his stretch-marks, and the way his bulk hung out right over his belt. There was even a thin, red line running horizontally across his girth from where the table had pressed into him— it was perfect.

“What are you doing?” you laughed, not that you were going to argue with the view he’d opted to grant you.

“I just can’t wear this thing anymore,” he said. “And besides— after what just happened in there, I’m absolutely fucking _dying_ to have you rub my gut.”

You chewed on your lip briefly, because it was all you could do not to start grabbing and squeezing handfuls of his tits while you fingered his bellybutton right then and there. Everything about his appearance seemed to scream for you to touch him. “...Let me undo your pants,” you offered, “and then sit down in the passenger’s seat. I want you to be _comfortable_ while I give you that belly-rub.”

Before he could tell you gratefully that your proposition was exactly what he’d been hoping to hear, you were already kneeling on the ground so that you could free him of his belt. You paid no mind to who might have been able to see you as the front of his pants sprung open; however, you did register the sticky little wet spot that had marred the front of what he was wearing underneath them. 

You couldn’t resist peeking around his belly and up at his face so that you could ask playfully, “You liked being stuck in the booth as much as I liked seeing you that way, didn’t you?”

When he only blushed and nodded the same way he’d done inside, you couldn’t help yourself— you reached beneath his shorts, and felt around for his cock (all but its very tip tended toward being buried in his fat, now, and you loved it that way). You soon found it; when you did, it was incredibly slick, and very obviously swollen with desire.

Anakin moaned, you rubbed circles into the head of his dick, and suddenly it didn’t matter where you were or who might have have been looking: All you could think about was how badly you wanted to taste the fattest man anybody in the restaurant had seen all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve had a crummy few days, to be honest, but writing this made me feel a lot better. I hope it made you feel good, too. (If it didn’t, you’re probably gonna want to skip this story going forward because it’s only going to get weirder/fatter/kinkier.)
> 
> Fat Anakin is the best Anakin. 😭❤️


	14. Fat Talk

“Jesus... fucking... _Christ!”_ panted Anakin, as you finally came upon a bench. You’d been promising him one for several minutes now; somehow, they hadn’t seemed quite so far apart the last time you’d come to this particular hiking trail together.

“What’s wrong, Ani?” you asked playfully. “Are you too fat for this now, too?”

The wooden planks comprising the seat creaked as he sat, and his stomach bulged beautifully over the waistband of his shorts. He’d worn the same pair of them to come on this trip with you as he’d worn to the beach only a couple of months before, and it was painfully obvious that they would soon need to be replaced. To see him sit down was to wonder just how he’d jammed himself into them to begin with: The drawstring holding them up could barely be tied anymore (you knew, because you were the one who had to tie it), and now seemed to be under so much duress that it was actively threatening to snap. 

“I’m too fat to do much of _anything_ anymore,” he huffed as he looked up at you from his spot. It was early in the morning, and it was nice outside; cool, even— but Anakin’s fattened face was flushed bright red, and although he’d been walking for less than a half-hour, he was already drenched in sweat. It made his hair stick to him, and rendered the white t-shirt he’d opted to wear today damp enough that you could nearly see right through it. Sitting down had caused it to ride up (it had been too tight to begin with), and when he tried to pull it back over the bottom portion of his gut, he found that he simply couldn’t.

As you glanced at the exquisite stretch-marks snaking their way along the large swath of skin he couldn’t help but expose, you smiled, “I’m sorry I dragged you out here— but you’re too beautiful for me not to want to show you off.”

He laughed at you. “Couldn’t you ‘show me off’ somewhere I don’t have to do so much fucking _walking?”_ He placed his natural hand on his belly and stroked absentmindedly; you loved to watch him touch himself. “Anyway, this place is dead— there’s no one here this early in the morning.”

“People will start showing up by the time we’re ready to leave,” you pointed out. “They’ll love watching you heave yourself back to the car, and so will I.” You knelt down on the ground right in front of him; grabbed at the inside of one of his ample thighs while you leaned in to kiss his belly. 

“I don’t know how I’m going to _make_ it back to the car,” he said. “I feel like I ran a fucking marathon just getting to this bench.”

“Don’t worry,” you teased. “No one’s going to be mistaking you for a person who runs marathons.” Maybe they would have before, back when he’d still been athletic and toned... but, now that his weight had more than doubled, you had a feeling it wouldn’t be a problem. You wiggled your hand underneath his shirt, and let it snake its way upward until you came upon a perfect handful of one of his tits, which you simply couldn’t help but squeeze.

He drew a sharp breath in; it was clear he appreciated the attention. _”Fuck,”_ he gasped. “If you’re going to play with me like that, at least tell me what a goddamn pig I am while you do it.”

Ani had definitely taken to having you call him names; the larger he grew for you, the more he seemed to crave being taunted about his weight. That was just fine with you; you never minded pointing out just how fat he’d become. “You already know what a tub of lard you are,” you said. As you stroked his nipple with your thumb from beneath his shirt, you reminded him, “I’m never going to stop feeding you, you know— enjoy the outdoors while you still can, because someday you’re going to end up stuck in bed, and you’re not going to be able to get out.” You started to rub the exposed part of his belly with your free hand, which made him groan— it was delightful to watch a man as big as Anakin throw his head back in ecstasy at the thought of descending even further into his own obesity. 

You weren’t pretending to want him to get too fat to move.

His hips shifted; you knew he was getting hard, but— even if you lifted his stomach— you could scarcely see his boner through his shorts anymore because of how far it was now buried in the evidence of his gluttony. You loved the sheer depth of that beautiful pad of fat which had come to overtake his cock; loved jiggling it to make him writhe and moan as much as you loved reaching into it to pump his hard-on. The only time his perfect dick stood out at all anymore was when he was laying flat on his back for you... and, of course, laying flat on his back rendered his breathing just a bit too shallow, given the always-increasing enormity of his chest and gut.

“Tell me how you’re going to get me there,” he begged. “Tell me about what you’re going to do to me— tell me how you want me to look.”

He was hornier now than you ever thought he was going to get just from taking a walk in the woods. There was still no one around to hear you, so as you pushed up his shirt for the purpose of tracing his stretch-marks with your fingers, you began, “I’m going to stuff you until you feel like you’re going to be sick— I’m going to do it _every day,_ and I’m never going to stop. I’ll even wake you up in the middle of the night just to feed you, if that’s what it takes to get you as fat as I know we both want you to be.” You drew back with your hand and slapped the side of his gut, because you knew he loved that. Both the sound of your palm hitting his skin and the yell he released at the sensation of it reverberated off of the trees surrounding you, and travelled deep into the forest.

“I want you so fat that you can’t reach your own dick,” you continued. “I want you to have to beg for me to get you off; I want you to have to beg just to be _fed._ I want you so heavy you can’t drag yourself to the fridge anymore— I need you to look like you’re about to burst. _I want to make you perfect._ ” You were still rubbing his belly; you’d pushed his shirt up enough now that you could see it in its entirety. With what you knew was an eager expression on your own face, you ceased playing with his chest and simply took his bloated, tortured gut between your hands and shook it; you wanted to see him ripple and bounce.

He moaned, and said your name. _”Goddamnit_ that feels good,” he breathed as he looked down at you, followed by, _”Please_ tell me you brought something for me to eat.”

“Lots,” you assured him, as you reluctantly removed your hands from his distended midsection and retrieved your backpack; opened it to reveal the food you’d brought along with you to keep Ani satisfied while he was away from the house. You understood very well just how frequently he became ravenously hungry, and you always tried your hardest to keep him more than adequately fed. His appearance was evidence of your great success in that particular endeavour; one could tell just by looking at him that he was never made to go long without eating.

You pulled from your bag what you knew Anakin would consider the ultimate treat: A long, thick, very generous bar of pure milk chocolate which had softened up in transit _just_ enough that you could open up the end of its package, and squeeze the contents directly into his mouth.

He tilted his head back once again, closed his eyes, and moaned helplessly through mouthful after mouthful of an early-morning snack you knew would more than make up for all of the walking (and sweating) he’d had to do to get here.

As you rubbed his belly and listened to the bench creak under his weight, you found it impossible not to hope that someone would soon walk by— after all, you certainly hadn’t been lying when you said you loved to show Ani off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a completely self-indulgent expression of my addiction to the most obese iteration of Ani I can conjure with my damaged little brain. I can’t wait to actually get to where he can’t move.
> 
> I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am. <3 This story is definitely my happy-place.


	15. Cock Hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed this today; hope you needed it, too. He’s getting so damn huge. 😭❤️

It was wonderful to have Anakin working from home. Not only did he move around less than ever and possess a virtually unlimited amount of time to put toward eating; he was also now always available to you, any time you wanted him.

“Ani?” you called as you walked into the house one evening. You were a bit late coming home, but not as late as you sometimes were. Anakin was usually finished with his own work by this point; you’d typically have found him on the couch with a snack, waiting for you to kiss him and rub his belly. Tonight, though, the living room was empty and aside from the quiet drone of the TV in the background, the entire place seemed quiet. _”Ani!”_

You didn’t get an answer, so you took off your coat and shoes, and ventured further inside. His car had been in the driveway; however, he was coming very close to not being able to fit into the driver’s seat anymore: Even when it was pushed as far back as it could go, his stomach couldn’t help but brush up against the steering wheel. The car was just a little sedan, and you’d talked about getting a vehicle that might be more accommodating of his new size, but Ani hadn’t seemed especially interested— he really only liked going out with you, he’d said, so why did he need to drive? He’d also pointed out that he almost always needed your help getting dressed these days, which had both helped you understand his point, and turned you on at the same time.

Either way, he wasn’t in his car and he wasn’t on the couch. You mused that he might have gone to bed early as you traversed the main floor of the house and entered the kitchen, which was where you usually emptied your pockets of your keys and change. That was where you discovered that your supposition was incorrect, along with a _very_ pleasant-seeming surprise.

“Oh my god! Ani! Are you okay?”

He _looked_ okay (actually, he looked fantastic), but you weren’t exactly used to finding him sitting by himself, sans shirt, in the middle of the kitchen floor. He _was_ wearing his newest pair of black sweatpants; his hips were popping out the waistband of them, creating a glorious muffintop. His belly simply hung out and rested on his lap; nothing could contain that particular part of his body anymore.

“Hm? Oh— I’m fine,” he said, and he reached inside of the large paper bag that was resting beside him to retrieve a delicious-looking, wondrously greasy hamburger. He picked the paper wrapping off of it with his finely-tuned bionic fingers, then proceeded to use his left hand to bring it to his mouth. He sat and looked up at you as he chewed and swallowed; he looked quite happy with himself, in spite of his position. 

You became a bit mesmerized watching him eat; while he finished the hamburger, you came to notice the pieces of broken kitchen chair which happened to be scattered around him. Most of the seat was still in-tact, but it was clearly missing a leg— that chair-leg, along with a few screws and a couple of splintered bits of wood, were sitting on the tile not far from Anakin himself.

You knelt down to his level, smiled, and used your finger to catch a bit of greasy meat juice that had wound up dripping from the side of his mouth. He smiled back; you kissed him and asked, “What are you doing down here?” The answer seemed obvious, but you wanted to hear him say it for himself.

“Well,” he chuckled, “I got hungry.”

 _”Then_ what happened?” You put a hand on his belly and started to rub him without even thinking about it.

“Then I ordered some food,” he continued, motioning to the paper bag. “When it got here, I sat down with it in the kitchen, and... well...” He finally blushed, if only a little bit, as he glanced around at the broken pieces before looking back at you. “...You’re not mad about the chair, are you?”

“No,” you laughed, and you kissed him one more time. “No, I’m not mad— actually, I’m pretty impressed.”

“Impressed?” he asked, and he tilted his head.

“Don’t you realize how fat that means you’re getting?” you grinned excitedly. _”You’re breaking chairs, now!”_ You let your hand travel to the side of his body as you pulled your head back to admire him, and squeezed at some of the flesh poking out from his waistband. “I’m proud of you, Ani— you know I love how you’re growing for me.” Anyway, you thought it was awfully cute that instead of heaving himself up and finding somewhere else to sit, he’d simply opted to remain on the floor with his bag of food. He must have been awfully hungry.

“I just thought you might be pissed off ‘cause it matched the rest of them,” he said of the chair. “I know you liked having a whole set.”

You shrugged. “I like making you huge more than I liked having a set of matching chairs,” you told him, and you really did mean that.

He must have appreciated hearing it, because raised his hand to pull you in for a kiss. Since you were still kneeling a bit precariously, you lost your balance and fell into him— specifically, you ended up pressed against his belly with your arm draped around him. Once you were finished probing his mouth with your tongue (he quite literally tasted like fat), you looked him in the eye and asked him sweetly as you glanced at his dinner, “Do you think it would be okay if I fed you a few of those?” 

“I was really hoping you’d ask me that,” he said happily. He reached over you to grab his bag of hamburgers; you sat up straight beside him, took one out, and started to unwrap it. While you did, he added, “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you.”

“Don’t be— do you have any idea how nice it is to come home to you like this?” Having freed the next portion of his meal from its foil entrapment, you held it up to his mouth for him. He grasped your wrist gently in his hand, gave you an affectionate squeeze, and took an enormous bite. As he chewed, you continued, “I’m not upset that you got a head start— just so long as you let me help you finish.”

He seemed relieved, not that he had a chance to say much of anything in response: Lately, once you started feeding him, you simply didn’t stop until you were certain he couldn’t take any more. Anakin loved it when you pushed his limits that way; tonight, after several more hamburgers, he ended up leaning against the wall in the kitchen— he’d scooted over to it unceremoniously for a bit of extra support when he’d started to feel particularly full. With his legs spread wide and his gut bulging carelessly onto his lap, he sat wordlessly as you continued to shove piles of meat into his mouth.

Eventually, it started to appear as if he couldn’t even keep his eyes open. His belly was packed tight, and every time you touched it, he groaned. In recent weeks, you’d noticed his stretch-marks beginning to creep up onto the upper part of his stomach; they were beginning to form on the sides of his tits, too. When you moved to trace them, he whined, which made you take a generous handful of his chest in your hand for the purpose of squeezing and jiggling it.

He was breathing quite heavily as he looked up from beneath a set of half-closed lids. “How many more _are_ there?” he asked, and he touched his gut gingerly with his hand— he seemed almost nervous.

“Not too many,” you said, which was true. “You know I want you to finish the bag, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure I can,” he admitted.

You smiled encouragingly; reached out with your hand to tilt his chin upward so that he could actually see the expression on your face. You loved how soft he’d become there; his jawline was more subtle than ever, and even his neck was getting fat. 

“Of course you can, Ani— _look at the size of you._ Anyway, you wouldn’t have ordered more than you thought you could eat.”

“I think I—” 

“Shh— quiet,” you said, reaching into the mostly-depleted paper bag to retrieve and unwrap yet another stack of greasy, fatty temptation. “I know you want this; just think about how good it’s going to feel the next time you can’t get your pants on.” You brought the burger up to his lips, and used it to prod at them gently. After another groan coupled with an adorable hiccup, he gave in; opened up his mouth so that you could push more food into it. “Good boy, Ani,” you told him as he ate. _”Good boy.”_

With plenty of loving enticement, a little bit of patience, and some very enthusiastic belly-rubbing, Anakin did eventually manage to finish off everything he’d ordered. By the time you got to the last bit of food, he’d stopped touching himself because his hands (both the real one, and the cybernetic replacement on his right) had fallen to his sides; besides that, he was barely moving or even lifting his head anymore.

All it seemed he could do now was chew, and swallow.

He grunted as the last of his dinner disappeared into him. Once both of your hands were free, you took the liberty of lifting his tits up one-by-one, just so that you could feel the weight of them for yourself. You weren’t at all disappointed; to you they seemed perfect, along with the noises that erupted from the back of his throat as you toyed with them. After letting them fall heavily onto the upper portion of his gut, you hooked your thumb into his navel and wiggled it around; that made him groan some more— and it still looked as if he couldn’t do much else. He was bloated beyond belief; you thought about how easily you used to be able to get your arms around him, and smiled at the mere notion of never being able to do so again.

“There,” you said, leaning over his gut to kiss his face. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

He only responded by tilting his head back, and moaning.

“Ani,” you coaxed. “You want to take this upstairs?”

He heaved his eyes open to look at you again; asked almost sleepily, “How do you figure we should get me there? I don’t think I can get up.”

“Go slow, and I’ll help you,” you said readily. “Don’t forget how much I love you— when I say I’ll do anything for you, I really mean it.”

He made a noise you could only have interpreted as being one of gratitude; after that, you began to undertake the task of getting Ani to his feet. He took his time, and so did you; there was no reason to rush— you knew he’d still be incredibly horny by the time you got him up to the bedroom, because you knew exactly what being overfed like this did to him.

After easing him to his feet and out of the kitchen, you guided him toward the stairs; watched eagerly from behind as he trudged very deliberately up each step. By the time he got to the top, he was panting; fresh sweat beading on his forehead. You let him rest there a moment, while thinking to yourself that you really ought to place a chair on the landing for him— one which could actually handle his bulk, of course.

Once you got to the bedroom, you made sure to tug off those sweatpants he’d been wearing before letting him flop down onto the edge of the bed. Once he was seated, you dropped to your knees in front of him, lifted up the bottom of his belly, and dug your hand in between his thighs. They were wide and soft, and newly-marred by the same bright-red streaks that had been snaking their way along his stomach for months. It was easy to slip your fingers between them, though, because he’d worked up quite a sweat eating out of your hand and then climbing a flight of stairs. You felt around; there was so much fat that you could hardly know just what parts of him you were grabbing at. Luckily, you didn’t care— every inch of him was perfect.

Finally, you were able to discern the slick, rock-hard head of his cock poking out of the comfy little alcove of flesh that had been working so valiantly to envelop it. You smiled, because you knew he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

“How does that feel, Ani?” you asked anyway. You’d stuffed him so full that he’d barely said two words to you since he’d finished eating. “Do you want to lie down for me?”

He answered simply by falling backwards onto the mattress, and murmuring something about you fingering his cock-hole— which was what the two of you had come to call the centre of his fat-pad; that perfect divot that both housed and concealed his dick. You began to do just as he’d asked, slipping your finger inside and running it along the bottom of his shaft as you used your tongue to trace his stretch-marks, and lick up what had leaked out of him over the course of his dinner.

“You’re so _wet_ ,” you said into his flesh, as you did what you could to move his thighs apart. “Next time, I promise to feed you in bed so you don’t have to drag your fat ass up the stairs. Would you like that?”

 _”Fuck yes,”_ he groaned, bucking his hips as best he could under his own weight. Mostly it only made his flesh bounce and ripple; it felt like a long time since he’d been able to actually lift himself that way. “I want you to feed me until I don’t have a choice but to eat _all_ my meals up here.”

“Mmm— so, you want to be stuck upstairs? I figured you’d pick the couch in the living room.” You stood a little bit higher on your knees; peeked over his belly and tits to try and see his face. He looked absolutely buried in fat; to see him like this was to be surprised he could still move at all. He looked entirely helpless, in fact, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

He shook his head (which made his neck-fat jiggle), and answered breathlessly, “No... no, I want to be stuck up here. I want you to be the only person who gets to see me and touch me.”

“Really?” you asked hopefully, moving to crawl up next to him on the mattress. You kept a hand between his legs as you kissed and licked the vastness of his gut.

“Really,” he said, finally seeming to have gathered his composure enough that he could speak a bit more. “I want to feel like your big, fat, shameful secret— I’ve never wanted to share any of the time I get to spend with you, and if I’m too heavy to heave myself up and out of this bed, then I won’t have to, will I?”

You pushed on his belly with your hand; the rest of him seemed to move along with it. He was turning into an utter blob for you. “No, Ani, you won’t,” you told him. “Never forget what I said— I’ll do _everything_ for you. I can’t wait to bring you your food in here every day.” You thought about sponging him off; about drying him beneath his tits, and lifting up his belly to ensure that his happily hidden cock was being taken care of in every conceivable way. You imagined him struggling to swing his legs off the side of the bed, and pictured exactly how difficult you wanted to make it for him to stand up.

“I’m yours,” he said. “All yours— I’ll never get up again if that’s what you want from me. I’ll roll around this bed until I can’t roll anymore; after that, I’ll just sit here for you. _Then_ you can do anything you want to me.”

At that, you pulled away from him so you could shed your own clothes; once you had, you draped yourself over his gut. You loved hugging his belly; it was so big, and right now it was especially round from having been stuffed to the brim with hamburgers. It stuck out majestically, and you couldn’t help but express your love for Ani by touching it.

After thanking him for being so enthusiastic in his desire to make himself belong to you, you went back to work on his cock. You jiggled his fat-pad while you stuck your fingers deep inside; you tongued his head, and shook his thighs. All the time, you listened to him grunt and moan and say your name.

Eventually, Ani would end up going off all over himself... and like the good boy he was, he would also refuse to fall asleep before bringing you to your own satisfying climax while you rode his face. It was delightful to watch his chest heave with the effort it took to both breathe and lick at your crotch at the same time, and a large part of you never wanted it to end.

You couldn’t believe he thought you’d be mad about a silly chair— in fact, you hoped you’d be home to witness him breaking the next one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that got so long; I’m just way too in love with feeding and manhandling and fat-talking with this guy.


	16. Dairy Queen

Anakin grunted as he sat down heavily in the driver’s seat of his car. He smiled to himself, because he loved the sight of his own stomach brushing up against the bottom of his steering wheel; besides that, he was very happy he hadn’t dropped or jostled the exquisite-looking cake he’d just purchased from your local Dairy Queen. It was made of vanilla ice-cream; all throughout it there were ribbons of chocolate, and generous layers of Oreo cookie crumbs. Its surface was drizzled with the same salted caramel topping the establishment used for dipping cones, and (according to the ad he’d seen for it, anyway) there was enough of it to feed a party of ten.

He used his one good hand— the one in which he’d been balancing it— to set it down on the passenger’s seat as he adjusted himself inside of what now felt like an incredibly tiny space. After pulling the door shut, he picked his cake back up from where he’d deposited it, and used the mechanical fingers of his right hand to carefully pop open the plastic lid: Anyone who thought this particular treat was going to survive his journey home would have been kidding themselves.

Ani still didn’t especially like going out without you by his side; however, tonight he hadn’t been able to resist. He had been up late working (one of the many advantages of his doing so from home was that he could start and stop whenever he felt like it), and although you’d already gone to bed on this particular evening, he had found himself incredibly hungry— hungry for something rich and heavy; for something that might actually have a chance at filling him up.

Anakin, these days, was not exactly easy to fill up.

He hoped you wouldn’t be upset that he’d done this without you, but again, he simply couldn’t help himself. After muttering something about how cramped the space in his car had become (perhaps he might reconsider your offer regarding a more accommodating vehicle), he balanced the newly-opened cake on his enormous stomach with the help of his artificial hand, and started to eat it. He used one of the several plastic forks he’d been given upon purchasing it; had to stop himself from laughing at the mere idea of sharing it with anyone else at all. 

It tasted as incredible as it looked: Sweet, rich, and unbelievably creamy, these cakes had always been among Anakin’s favourite indulgences. Prior to meeting you he’d never have dreamed of consuming one of them all at once in its entirety... however, now that he had someone to appreciate his propensity toward a complete lack of moderation when it came to food, the notion of doing so served only to excite him.

Although he was enjoying himself very much, he worked relatively quickly— after all, he didn’t want it to melt before he had a chance to finish it off. Forkful after forkful of velvety, frozen cream shot through with chocolate passed his lips; there were people in the parking lot, but he didn’t care who saw him: Anakin now revelled in astounding others with his gluttony. Some of the cake dribbled down his chin as he ate; some of it stained his shirt, but once more, none of that bothered him in the slightest. He knew you loved the way he looked with food smeared on his face and body; knew that if you’d been here with him, you wouldn’t have been able to stop yourself from openly admiring his appearance as he devoured his purchase.

In short time, much of the dessert had vanished; as he took a moment to breathe and appreciate the sensation of his belly filling up, he realized that his cock had started to grow stiff. He loved the way it felt when it got hard, particularly now that so much of it was encased by thick layers of his own fat. He shifted in his seat; could feel that he was even starting to drip, which only made the sensation of his hard-on rubbing against the flesh surrounding it more pleasurable.

As he resumed eating, he reflected contentedly that even if he’d wanted to, he could never have begun to jerk himself off; not in this position. He didn’t want to, though; in fact, he was quite intent on saving for you the delight he was deriving from eating his cake. He knew you loved to rub his stuffed belly and reach into his fat-pad; was entirely aware of the fact that his egregious overeating brought you as much joy as it brought him. He was already thinking about lumbering up the stairs at home and into your bedroom for the purpose of showing off what he’d done to himself tonight; considering just how happy you would be to wake up to his incredibly round, tightly-packed gut. 

When the cake finally disappeared into him altogether, he found himself in need of a moment to regain his composure— it was hard work being this fat; not at all easy to eat so much at once, let alone so quickly. Ani was happy to do it, though, because you both loved it more than nearly anything else in the world. As his weight continued to increase, in fact, he was finding himself less and less motivated toward doing much of anything that didn’t require sticking a fork in his mouth (or his cock into yours). He knew he had other obligations, but nothing appealed to him more than simply being a pig for you. He couldn’t wait until he was unable to get out of bed; couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about you lovingly attending to every last one of his wants and needs because he was too large to do so.

It was nice, of course, to be able to go out and do things like purchase ice-cream cake... but, he also knew that you’d have run this errand for him in a heartbeat if he’d asked. As he picked up and licked clean the newly-emptied plastic tray on which his dessert had once rested, he thought about the prospect of immobility; about just how wonderful it would be when his legs would no longer support his weight, and he would be entirely reliant upon you to fulfil him in every imaginable way.

Ani was a very good pet, and almost nothing delighted him more than being one for you. Even right now, he was wearing his collar; that satiny, graciously-adjustable length of velvet-lined leather by which you liked to tug him around. It reminded him not only of who he belonged to, but also of who loved him; who just couldn’t stop wanting him, no matter how big his belly got or how thick and cumbersome his thighs became. 

With a contented sigh, he tossed the now-empty tray (along with its lid and his fork, too) into the back seat of his car. He knew you’d clean it out for him later; anyway, he also knew that it made you happy and proud to see evidence of his having overindulged, even if it did happen to be in your absence: You’d told him again and again how much it thrilled you that he enjoyed being spectacularly fat just as much as you rejoiced in making him that way.

After regaining his composure following his excessive consumption of chocolate and cream, he gave his gut a pat with his natural hand. He loved to touch himself when he was this full; loved to poke at his belly and admire his own sheer capacity. He was so big now that it was almost untenable for him to be driving this car; if he kept putting on weight, he would soon be unable to use the steering wheel, no matter how far back he pushed his own seat. He already went without his seatbelt some of the time; it was simply too much effort to stretch it around the vastness of his own form, particularly with just one functional hand. 

Anakin wanted more than anything to come home to you, now; the persistence of his erection was such that he knew he needed for you to touch him, and soon. Even if he could have reached his own dick in this position, it was always so much nicer for him when you were the one who got him off. He couldn’t wait to be unable to reach it for himself at all, regardless of the way he was sitting or laying down: One of his favourite recurring fantasies was one in which he was entirely dependent upon you to grant him sexual release; one in which he simply couldn’t get to his cock, no matter how horny he felt. 

With that thought in mind, he prepared himself to start up his car and make his way back home, where you were still in bed waiting for him. He knew you appreciated it when he surprised you, especially by taking initiative with regard to enhancing his own body. He just couldn’t wait to huff his way up the stairs, and give you what you loved more than anything.

You had no idea that you were about to receive a gift even sweeter than the one Ani had just given himself.

...

Somehow, you hadn’t heard Anakin leave the house in the first place; on top of that, you hadn’t heard him re-enter it... nor had you heard him ascend the stairs, despite the effort it now often took for him to do so. By the time you registered his presence, he was— save for his collar— already entirely undressed, and crawling right up on top of you. That somehow still-unimaginably strong single arm of his was suspending him just enough that he wouldn’t put so much of his weight on you as to actually hurt you.

You stirred to the familiar sensation of his belly pressing into you; it was so big and hung so low when he was on his hand and knees that it couldn’t help but to do so. As he leaned in to kiss at your neck, he told you breathlessly, _”I love you.”_

“I love you too, Ani,” you said quietly, pulling your eyes open. You loved waking up to the sight of Anakin: his hair fell all around his face, and from this angle, the weight he’d gained in and around that part of him made itself more evident than ever. You loved to stroke and pinch at the fat under his chin, and so that was what you did as you reached up to touch him now. It was sometimes hard to believe just how chubby he was; but then, you’d both put a lot of effort into transforming his body. You loved every ounce he’d gained, and the knowledge that you were going to be allowed to help him gain even more made you throb just to think about.

“Let me up,” you smiled. You wanted to touch him and play with him, now that he was here. 

He looked to think very carefully. “...No. I don’t want to let you up yet; this feels too good.” He allowed a bit more of his weight to press into you; it made you draw in a breath, both because he was so heavy and simply because it felt so good. His tits were amazingly soft and inviting resting atop your own chest; you felt a strong urge to squeeze them— maybe bounce them around in your hands for a while.

Before you could say anything to his refusal to let you up, he leaned down again and sank his teeth deep into your neck. It hurt, but it also felt wonderful— you shouted, and bucked your hips into his fat, which rubbed up against you in just the perfect way. 

“See?” he asked, as he released you from his bite. 

“Mm! I do, but—” 

He interrupted you by shifting himself so that he could nibble on your collarbone instead; even more of his girth pressed into you when he did. As you lay beneath him, you contemplated the fact that if he didn’t want to let you get up, then he really didn’t have to: At well over four hundred pounds (you’d weighed him for the fun of it only weeks before), Ani didn’t need to move just because he’d been asked. Wherever he decided to put himself at any given moment was where he was going to be, and that that was that. 

As he wiggled and jiggled his way down your body, teasing you with his lips and teeth and tongue, you found yourself more able to begin to sit up, and so you did. It was a treat to watch him shift about so enthusiastically; the way he rippled and shook with each and every one of his movements was intoxicating. Between his size and his missing arm, the manner in which he progressed was downright sensual to you. His belly bulged out from under him; that made you want to reach out and slap it... but, just as you were about to exactly that, Ani unexpectedly heaved himself up onto his knees. You pulled your legs out from between them and sat the rest of the way up yourself; it was only then that you noticed how stuffed he really looked.

“Were you eating without me?” you asked wryly. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing much,” he answered, seeming equally coy.

“You know it’s never ‘nothing’; I love watching you eat.” You grinned widely at the sight of him next to you in bed. “Why don’t you lie down so I can give you a belly-rub?”

“You want me to lie down for you?” he asked with a smirk.

“Of course I do— look at you; you’re irresistible!”

“I’ll lie down for a belly-rub,” he appeared to concede, _”but,_ only if you can make me.”

What was this, now? _”Make_ you?” you laughed incredulously. How were you supposed to do that? “What’s gotten into you, Anakin?”

He shrugged. “An entire ice-cream cake.”

Your eyes widened, and you chewed on your lip in anticipation of being allowed to manhandle him the way you loved most. “So it definitely wasn’t ‘nothing’ that I missed,” you pointed out.

“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But if you can get me onto my back, I’ll let you feed me something else— I’m still hungry, you know.” Of course he was still hungry. 

“Really?” you asked.

“Really.”

Well, alright then— if taking him down was going to get him to eat more for you, then you supposed you were up to the challenge. 

The first thing you did was lunge at him; however, even when you put your arms around his shoulders and tried to pull him off of his knees, nothing happened: He was just too big. He laughed at you as you tugged on him, before using his own arm to cast you off with ease. “Try harder,” he told you, as you landed on the mattress and looked up at him with a smile. You loved when Ani decided to be playful.

“Okay,” you said, and you jumped at him again, this time intending to wrap your arms about his waist to try to set him off-balance. Of course, you couldn’t get your arms _all_ the way around his waist; not anymore, but as you pressed your face into his chest and tried to push him, you realized that even if you could have, it wouldn’t have mattered. How the hell did he expect you to actually make him move?

He tossed you away again with his arm; you tried to take him down once more, but still, he wouldn’t budge... so, you kept on trying. You would bound or leap or otherwise thrust yourself in his direction; each time, he would throw you away, and end up planted even more steadfastly than before. As you tussled with him, he started to sweat and his breathing became heavy, but he still didn’t let you win. He even caught you in a headlock at one point; held you tightly against his belly until you managed to distract him by reaching under it to grab the head of his cock, and then slipping free of his grasp.

Soon you decided to try something a bit different. You stood back up on your knees to face him, but instead of using force to try to topple him, you brought yourself close; very close, as though you were going to kiss him. You leaned in to do just that; noticed that he tasted like birthday cake while you relished the feeling of his gut pressing into you the same way you always did. It was easy to discern exactly how full he was this way, and that made you feel even more excited at the prospect of getting to feed him... and even more determined to win his ‘game’.

Between kisses, he seemed to relax a bit— let his guard down. Finally, he whispered into your ear, “Does this mean you’re giving up?” 

That made you smile again. “Absolutely not,” you answered, and as quickly as you’d ever done anything, you gave one of his legs a hard shove with your own. It went out from under him just as you’d planned; all at once, he fell abruptly to onto the bed face-first.

He shouted in surprise while you grinned at your own fresh sense of accomplishment, but before you could announce your victory, you both heard and felt something quite distinct: A loud creak came first; after that, there was a snap, and then all of sudden, you were joining Anakin in falling unceremoniously onto the mattress.

It didn’t take you very long to realize that you and Anakin, in the midst of your fun, had broken the bed.

“Shit!” he exclaimed, and lifted his head to look over at you.

You wanted to say something; maybe you _should_ have said something, but all you could manage was to laugh. Your grin must have been contagious, however, because he returned it, and started to laugh too.

Once you’d exhausted your mutual giggles, you both sat up unsteadily on the newly-slanted surface and looked at one another. “What the fuck are we going to do now?” asked Anakin, turning his head to peer over the edge of the bed to get a better look at its broken leg.

“Get a better frame, I guess,” you suggested, because what other option was there? “We would have needed a stronger one, anyway— if you really want to get too fat to move.” That was very true, although you hadn’t taken it into consideration until just now. 

“Of course I do,” he said, “but I kind of meant for _tonight_ — You can feed me on the couch downstairs, but where are we supposed to sleep?”

“Oh— well, we could take the old frame apart and just sleep on the mattress for now.” It occurred to you that if he was talking about letting you shove more food into his mouth, then it meant he was essentially conceding to your having completed his little challenge. “...So,” you asked next, “does this mean I won?”

“‘Won’? Oh! Yeah, it pretty much does, doesn’t it?”

He heaved himself up off of the bed altogether after that. You stood up, too, and took a moment to survey the damage you’d wrought. “Well, do you want to eat first, or deal with this first?” you queried, turning to look at him.

“Eat first,” he grinned, which was exactly what you’d predicted he’d say.

“Alright,” you agreed, because even if he did end up too full to get back to his feet and help you when you were finished, you knew you were more than capable of getting rid of the old frame yourself.

As you both made your way downstairs to see what there was to eat, you reflected on how you truly didn’t mind the prospect of having to dismantle and dispose of the broken furniture. Anakin had been lots of fun tonight; between his full belly and the game he’d invited you to play, he’d put more than enough effort into making you happy to satisfy you.

Anyway, any amount of work you ended up having to do was always worth it, for the sheer pleasure of filling Ani to the brim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was lots of fun.
> 
> I’ve sort of started another busted-furniture escapade starring canon-universe fat Padawan Anakin for a few reasons: Firstly, I like the idea of the noise getting him caught; secondly, I think the scene would be more impactful if Reader had a discernible sex (and I’d sort of like it to end with some form of penetration). Aside from that, I’ve set this story in a universe where by definition Anakin can’t have two fully-functioning arms, and I think it would be nice to give him that, if I’m also going to make him wrestle around.
> 
> Anyway, I can’t get enough of fat Anakin, so any iteration of him I get to write about is bound to make me feel endlessly happy.


	17. Wal Mart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is cute.

“You know how much I hate this store,” complained Anakin from the passenger’s seat, while you searched the vastness of the lot for a place to park your car.

“Can you think of another one this close-by that sells shirts in your size?” Almost all of the spots were full; it was clearly busy here today.

Ani rolled his eyes. “I told you we could have ordered one.”

“The dinner is _tomorrow._ We don’t have time to order a shirt.” You’d been invited— along with the rest of your co-workers— to an evening meal hosted annually by your company. You’d been looking forward to it, particularly since nobody you worked with had seen your boyfriend for a few months. As always, you were excited to show him off... but, he needed a decent shirt to wear; one that actually fit. 

“I hope you realize that if this thing weren’t being held at a buffet, I’d already be pretending to be sick.” Of course he would be— he had always hated events like this. 

“Oh come on, Ani— it’ll be fun.” At least he was half-willing to attend.

“The restaurant had better still have that waffle-maker. Do you remember the waffle-maker?” He squinted into the sun and looked out the windshield as you finally pulled into a free space. 

“I do remember— _and yes, it still has the waffle-maker._ I checked, because I knew you’d ask. Let’s just get this done— I don’t like coming here any more than you do.”

“Ugh. Fine.”

At that, Anakin begrudgingly heaved himself up and out of your car; together you began to make your way across the parking lot and toward the establishment Ani hated more than any other: Wal-Mart. You typically tried to avoid coming here at all costs; in fact, this was your first time entering the store in well over a year. The last time you’d shopped here, you and Ani had both ended up in a bad mood. Between the breadth and disorganization of the place itself, and the sheer amount of time it took to find your items, check out, and leave, you’d been engaged in a heated argument by the time you left.

You hoped things would go a bit differently this time, but Anakin’s reluctance combined with how busy it was already to make you feel less than optimistic.

“You know their prices are so low because they barely pay their employees, don’t you?” asked Anakin, as you commenced your journey to the large, sliding doors comprising the entrance.

“You need a shirt for tomorrow,” you reiterated dismissively. “I’m not really worried about that right now.” You thought for a minute; added, “Did _you_ know they have solar panels on the roof?”

“How does that help the people who work here?”

“I don’t know— environmental consciousness is good for everyone, I guess?”

Ani scoffed. “With all the money they’re saving by powering the store with the goddamn sun, you’d think they’d be able to pay more than minimum wage.” 

You just sighed, and continued onward. Whatever he thought about the store itself, the two of you were already here, and you weren’t about to leave empty-handed. You looked beside yourself to see just what sort of expression Anakin was wearing on his face, and found that he had fallen a bit behind.

“Hey,” you called out, “you okay back there?”

 _”I’m fine,”_ he told you, sounding a bit winded. “But why did you have to park a million miles away from the door? This walk is killing me.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have grinned quite so broadly when you turned around to the sight of Ani sweating, breathless, and red in the face... but, you couldn’t help it: He just looked so perfect that way. You knew he more than understood. As you paced back to him, you said apologetically, “It was the only open spot I could find. It’s okay; we can slow down.”

“Thanks,” he smiled— indicating that he did, of course, understand— and then he reached out for your hand.

“I guess walking that trail is out of the question now, huh?” you teased gently, taking hold of him. Since you laid eyes on him so often, you supposed you hadn’t noticed until now just how much bigger he’d grown since the day you had sat him down on that bench in the woods and squeezed melted chocolate into his mouth. You loved that he just couldn’t seem to stop; certainly didn’t mind slowing down a bit to accommodate the way his size was truly beginning to hinder his ability to move.

“I think so,” he confirmed with a knowing smirk, and before letting you lead him the rest of the way into the store, he pulled you in close; held you against his belly. You put your arms around him in return, and rubbed the sides of his gut through his shirt. You knew what that did to him, so you weren’t at all surprised when he drew in a deep breath, and let it out along with a quiet moan.

“Do you like that?” you asked, before leaning in to press your lips onto his. 

He kissed you back, but he also nodded. _”Mmhm.”_ Of course he liked it.

After you’d pulled away, you said to him, “More when we get home, then— _if_ you’re nice about having to shop here today.” As subtly as you could manage, you snaked a hand up under his shirt to trace a line across the bottom of his stomach. It was hanging very heavily over the waistband of his shorts, and more than a bit of it wound up being exposed as you touched him.

 _”Ah!_ I’ll be good,” he promised, before you continued on— slowly— into the store. 

It certainly sounded like he was telling the truth.

...

_”Fuck.”_

"What's the matter?" you asked, although you were fairly sure you already knew.

Anakin looked up at you from his position on one of the benches in the middle of the shoe aisle. He took up just about the entire thing; thankfully, it was made of reinforced steel, so it didn't buckle beneath his bulk. "This store is too damn big," he said, clearly struggling to catch his breath. 

He was right; it certainly was too big... but, you also didn't happen to notice anybody else struggling to traverse it quite the way he was right now. "If you need to take a break," you told him, "we can stay here for a little bit." Again, you had no problem with slowing down to make things easier for him. He was as fat as he was for _you_ , after all: Taking a bit more time when it came to certain everyday activities was a very small price to pay for the sheer pleasure you derived from watching him bloat up for you like a balloon. 

You'd have sat down on his lap, but he hardly had one of those anymore; just an oversized gut with a pair of knees peeking out from beneath it. You knelt down instead; stroked his reddened face— he was gorgeous when he ran out of breath. "I love you, Ani," you grinned, because you were so proud of him right now.

"I love you, too," he said, "but I don't know how much longer I can keep this up today."

"It's only for a little while," you assured him. "We're almost to the clothes section; once we find you something nice to wear tomorrow, we can head right home and get you back into bed." You'd already acquired a new bed frame. It had a 1200-pound capacity, so no matter how big Ani got, you could always sit or lay down right alongside him. You'd selected it yourself; hadn't even had to consult him, which you knew made him feel especially well taken care of.

"Can't you just go grab a shirt, and then come back and get me?" he asked. You loved the look in his eyes as he did; it was pleading, but with an underlying sensuality that told you he was thoroughly enjoying his predicament. 

Just as you were about to answer him, you saw something go by in the aisle adjacent to the one in which he was seated... something that gave you what you thought was an excellent idea.

"How about I go and find you one of those scooter-things instead?" you ventured. The store had lots of them; there had been several all lined up by the front doors when you'd arrived. They were big; more than big enough for somebody the size of Anakin, and frankly they looked like a lot of fun to drive, too. They even had baskets.

"'Scooter-things'?" He looked skeptical. "You mean, like... for old people?"

"They're not _just_ for old people," you told him. Then, with a grin, "They're also for big, fat people like you."

He laughed. "Well... I mean, I guess you're right." After that he asked more coyly, "You wouldn't be embarrassed or anything, would you? To have to walk alongside a scooter because your boyfriend is too much of a fatass to get around Wal Mart on his own two legs?" If you'd still been able to see his dick through his pants, you knew it would have twitched at that.

"No way," you said, kissing the side of his mouth as you stood up again. "I can't imagine being anything but proud of how massive you are."

"Alright, then," he smiled. "Just don't bug anyone who works here, okay? They don't need any more shit than they already get."

"I won't," you promised, and you skipped off gleefully to find Ani a fat-guy cart so that he could get around the store. You couldn't believe how lucky you were to be in such a position.

...

"This _is_ fun! Can you see around me okay?" You were standing between Anakin's knees, draped over his gut as you faced him on the scooter. He was sitting in the seat, hanging onto the handlebars while he looked past you. He'd taken to driving the device immediately, and with great enthusiasm. Most of the people you happened to pass stared at you rather intently, but you didn't mind that at all... in fact, the glances and glares you received excited you. 

"Yeah, it's no problem. Are you sure this thing can handle the two of us, though?"

"The little sticker on the side says it's good up to 800 pounds."

"...Maybe this place isn't _so_ bad," he admitted, looking up at the signs hanging from the ceiling in the hopes of finding one indicating that you were close to the men's clothing section. 

"Told you," you said. More recently, accommodating Ani's growth had started to become more difficult than it had ever been before. It wasn't only restaurant booths that were a problem; he had to think very carefully about which other kinds of seats he could sit in, and which spaces he could squeeze himself into. He loved getting fat, but above all Anakin was still a gentleman: He had no desire to go around breaking things with his ass, or causing trouble for other people if he didn't have to. You'd always loved how sweet and kind he was; gaining so much weight had only seemed to bring out even more of that particular side of him. 

"Here it is," he finally said, pulling the scooter into just the part of the store he'd been looking for. "The fat guy stuff is near the back— do you think 5x will still do it, or should I look for a 6?"

"Six," you answered. "Just to be safe. And, I mean, we're going to a buffet— you'll probably want a bit of growing-room, right?"

"That's a good point. Especially considering the fact that they still have the waffle-maker. ...You _are_ sure about the waffle-maker, aren't you?"

"I'm sure about the waffle-maker!" you laughed, and hopped out from between his legs so that he could hoist himself up off of the scooter to examine the shirts on display. As he waddled past you on his way over to where they kept the items sized for him, you couldn't help but admire his ass. It was bigger and rounder than ever; the way the tan khaki shorts he was wearing hugged it was almost enough to make you melt into a puddle right then and there. He needed your help getting into anything he had to button up these days, but you were always thrilled to do it. It was great fun to lift up his belly for him. He was invariably more comfortable to let it simply hang out; truly didn't seem to like concealing it for any reason. 

"How about this?" he asked, breaking you out of your trance. He held up a crisp, white button-down shirt; it was not unlike the ones he used to wear to his office before he'd started working from home. It was handsome and formal, but most importantly, it was very, _very_ big.

"You sure it'll fit?" you asked.

"I'm positive," he told you. "It's a size up from the one I've got on right now, and you know how this place sizes their stuff."

He was right: If nothing else, Wal Mart was incredibly generous with their sizing. Ani might not have liked the ethics of the place, but between the scooter and the fat clothes, you could hardly think of a better place to take him shopping.

"Get a couple of them, then," you advised. "I love you in button-ups— and when they get too small, we can work on making them pop open."

He grinned. "You read my mind," he said, and proceeded to grab a few more off of the rack: Two white, one black, and one in a lovely shade of powder-blue. He must have known how much you liked him in blue; it matched his beautiful eyes, and never failed to bring out their intensity.

"Is that everything, then?" you asked him. You didn't mind hanging around here for a little while longer, if he decided he wanted to buy something else. You liked playing dress-up with Anakin; besides that, you were having a wonderful time with the scooter. It was great fun to lean up against his stomach, wedged between his body and the handlebars.

"It is for now. If I need something else, we can always come back, can't we?"

Your eyes widened, and you had to stop yourself from letting your mouth hang open in shock. "You're telling me you want to come back? I thought you hated this store!"

"I do," he said as he deposited the shirts in the basket of the scooter, and eased himself back onto it. "But can you think of a better place for a bucket of lard like me to go shopping?" 

You enjoyed hearing Anakin talk about himself that way. Once again, you knew that if you could reach between his legs and into his fat-pad right now, you'd find a lovely hard-on just aching for your love and attention. You didn't mind shopping here nearly as much as he had claimed to mind it on his way in; however, you still found yourself wanting more than anything to get him home... not only so that he could he model his new shirts for you (perhaps you could even play at destroying some of his older ones with his gut), but so that you could use the stiffness of his dick to gauge his true enjoyment of your shared Wal Mart experience.

As you hopped back onto the scooter with him for the purpose of taking your items up to the cash register, you reflected on the last time you'd come here with him: It had been a miserable trip, with all kinds of arguing and grumpiness. This expedition seemed to be the complete opposite of that, and the only actual difference just so happened to be the extra weight Anakin had added to his frame.

This wasn't the first time you had considered just how much his having fattened up (and your unfettered appreciation of it) had contributed to the quality of your relationship and your life together, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

You didn't think you'd ever quite get over just how fortunate you'd been to find somebody like your sweet, chubby Ani... and now that he had a shirt to wear to tomorrow's event, you simply couldn't wait to show off his capacity to your co-workers at that buffet you knew he loved so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure Anakin would be sensitive to workers’ plights, having been a slave in canon. He was sure having fun by the end of that shopping trip, though. ❤️
> 
> Anyway, sorry for bombarding you with another update so soon; I’ve been dying to write this chapter, and today I finally found the time to do it. It's been a ridiculously busy week.
> 
> I can’t believe this collection of fat Anakin porn is 40k words long now. :D


	18. Roast Beef

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's probably more to this chapter than there is to the whole rest of the story, and I really like it. It's a bit long, though, so it's okay if you don't get through it. Next one will be pure sex; and no, he won't be getting up. Ani doesn't want to get up anymore. ❤️

Helping Anakin get dressed was always fun: His missing arm combined with his ever-increasing size to make it so that you had to do just about everything for him as far as his clothes were concerned... and of course, you loved every second of it. Your favourite part might have been having to kneel down to put on his socks for him; this was because you derived immense joy from kissing his perfect, pudgy legs while you accomplished the task. Besides that, you couldn't get enough of fastening his pants— he'd help by lifting his belly out of the way for you with his good hand, and you would zip or button them up before telling him to go ahead and let go of his gut. He never minded you licking or nibbling at the bottom of it as it fell heavily back into place.

Tonight you'd finished doing both of those things a few minutes prior, and he was now working on buttoning up one of those new shirts you'd purchased together the day before; specifically, the powder-blue one— the one that brought out his eyes. You'd already helped him with everything he had to put on the lower-half of his body for the purpose of going out to eat with you and your co-workers. 

"You still okay with the buttons?" you asked him. You were already fully dressed, and you found yourself sitting on the edge of your bed admiring him as he shrugged on the new garment. He was standing a few feet away from you, looking as exquisite as he always did.

"Yeah, I think so," he said, and he looked up from what he was doing to shoot you a smile. His false hand worked nimbly alongside the one he'd been born with to fasten the long row of buttons extending down the length of the shirt; the way he used his prosthesis had never failed to impress you. You'd previously reflected upon just how much you loved the contrast between his thick, soft body and the inorganic sleekness of his right arm... and the bigger he got, the more obvious the discrepancy became. 

"Do I need to try to tuck this thing in," he asked of the shirt, "or can I just leave it?" 

"Leave it," you told him. "You know this place isn't _that_ fancy." Anyway, you knew his shirt would never stay tucked in on its own, particularly if Ani was going to stuff himself the way you were anticipating. 

"Alright," he said, clearly relieved that he wouldn't have to struggle to keep his hem in place all evening. 

As he went back to work on his buttons, you relished the few extra moments you got to spend staring at him prior to venturing out of the house together. Both of you vastly preferred it when all he had to do was lay in bed; however, this dinner only happened once or twice every year: You and Anakin were well aware of the fact that by the time the next one came around, he might not have the ability to attend it at all. You wanted to take every opportunity you were granted to show him off before he wound up bound to the bed entirely, no matter how much you were looking forward to his impending immobility.

While you watched his smooth, pale, stretch-mark-laden belly disappear beneath the fabric of his lovely new shirt as its edges came together, you rose from the bed and stepped up close to him. After letting him finish with what he was doing, you put a hand on his middle, and leaned over its protrusion to give him a kiss. 

"Do I look okay?" he asked as you pulled back, still smiling widely.

"You're gorgeous," you answered. "Like a work of art." 

It was true; Anakin's body was, indeed, a lot like a big, sexy piece of fine craftsmanship: The two of you were always working on it; consequently, it was always changing— becoming better and better, almost by the day. You loved to look at and touch every inch of him; detecting new stretch-marks, dimples, folds, and rolls of fat was a wondrous treat. This was part of why you liked it when he stayed in bed; in bed, he _never_ had to wear clothes, and your access to every part of him was unfettered. He happened to like it that way as well, and scarcely ever shied away from telling you so.

In fact— almost as though he'd read your mind— he said just then, "You know I'd rather just sit around with you wearing nothing at all, right?" 

"I know," you told him sympathetically, "and that's why I'm so grateful to you for being willing to come out with me tonight. I promise you'll have a good time, _and_ that I'll do something nice for you later to pay you back anyway." Whether that meant a blowjob in the parking lot, mixing up a big bowl of that homemade frosting he loved so much, or something else entirely didn't matter to you. You really were thankful that Ani didn't mind doing this... and anyhow, you had a feeling he'd enjoy the stares he was sure to garner with both his appearance and his appetite. "You're hungry, right?" you grinned, already knowing the answer was almost sure to be 'yes'. 

"Of course I'm fucking hungry," he chuckled, looking at you as though your question had been terribly silly. "They better have filled up that machine with fresh waffle batter this afternoon, or I don't think anybody else is going to get any."

You laughed at that. "Go nuts," you said. "It's a _buffet_ — and if your legs get tired, just let me know, and I'll go and grab you whatever you want." Anakin, frankly, had fallen out of the habit of getting up and walking around all that much; you predicted that after a few trips to and from the buffet trays, he might very well come in need of assistance. It was the type of assistance you were always more than willing to provide him. 

"Trust me, I will," he promised you. After a pause, he asked, "You're going to stick my folding chair in the trunk of the car, right?" 

"It's already there," you assured him, giving his stomach an affectionate pat. Most establishments didn't have on-hand the type of furniture that Ani now needed to accommodate his weight; you'd gone ahead and purchased a high-capacity steel chair for him to use in case you found yourselves in just that type of bind. It had already proven itself to be quite useful, and you expected you may need it tonight: You and Anakin had already been to this restaurant together numerous times, and you knew that flimsy, wooden chairs and booths he could no longer fit into were the only seating options available. 

"Thanks," he said, and he put his hand overtop yours on his gut; pressed your fingers into his flesh through his shirt. "I don't want to have to worry about breaking anything that doesn't belong to me while I stuff my face." 

"That's one of the things I love so much about you," you told him thoughtfully. "You're _always_ a gentleman."

He scoffed, and then he smirked. "I might not want to wreck their shit," he said, "but if they let me, I might come close to eating them out of business tonight— I really am fucking starving."

With a laugh you replied, "Well, then let's get going." Reluctantly, you took your hand out from under his and away from his belly; started to step toward the door to the bedroom. As you looked back at him, "I can't have you wasting away on me before we even manage to get there. Then what will I have to show off to my co-workers?"

Contentedly, he followed you; he didn't have to say anything at all to that. You knew that in spite of his initial lack of willingness to join you on this particular outing, he really was looking forward to making a minor spectacle of himself in front of everybody you worked with. Ani might have been a gentleman, but he was a gentleman who happened to get off on having people marvel at how fat he was— and this was the ideal opportunity for him to give himself exactly what he loved most.

You definitely shared his hope that the restaurant staff had, indeed, recently replaced the batter inside that waffle-maker he loved so much.

...

When you and Ani arrived at the buffet, the majority of the people you worked with were already there. You walked in with his left hand clasped firmly in your right, and that incredibly useful, portable chair tucked beneath your free arm. The first thing you did after being led over to your table by one of the staff members was replace the wooden chair at the very end of it with the one you'd brought for your boyfriend to use. You received a series of greetings and a couple of strange looks; however, nobody said anything to you about Anakin and his new need for special accommodations (or at least, they didn't yet).

"I thought you were still dating the same guy," the girl who worked at the desk adjacent from yours said, right after the very first time Ani got up to get food. He'd only just waddled out of earshot, but you wished he could hear what was already being said about him.

"I am still dating the same guy," you informed her, trying to suppress your smile with a sip of the water that had been set in front of you upon sitting down.

"...He looks _different,"_ she tried next, which almost made you laugh because it caused you to recall what Anakin's ex had said to the two of you just a few months ago, as you'd sat in front of her on the beach fingering his stretch-marks.

Setting your water down, you shrugged. "I see him every day," you said, "and I haven't noticed much of anything. What do you mean 'different'?"

"Well," she started, "I guess I mean—"

"Check this out," Anakin unknowingly interrupted, as he sat down in his chair with a full plate, and a heavy grunt. You were seated immediately beside him; the girl who'd begun to venture to ask about his weight gain was to the other side of you. "They just put out this _enormous_ roast," Ani went on. With more than a hint of pride, he grinned, "I got to it first."

Happily, you turned your attention to him. "Wow— that looks incredible," you said; followed by, "Good going, sweetheart," as you leaned over to give him a chaste little kiss on the side of his face. The roast really did look fantastic: Just by sight, you could tell that it had been perfectly braised; in fact, it seemed as though it could have been cut through with a butter-knife. Ani had piled a veritable mountain of it onto his plate, along with a generous serving of equally well-roasted potatoes, and a lake of gravy shot through with bits of caramelized onion.

He didn't answer you, because he already had a mouthful of meat.

The girl next to you also didn't say anything, but she did tilt her head as she stared curiously at Anakin and his food. You couldn't help but stare too, because you simply loved to watch him eat... but, soon, you did feel the need to leave the table and go and get something for yourself. You hadn't expected it to happen quite so quickly; however, you were already becoming aroused— you needed to do _something_ other than gawk at your fat, perfect boyfriend, lest you betray yourself to everyone around you.

Anakin, for his part, didn't exactly make it easy: Once he was finished with his first plate of roast, he went back for another; after that, he took it upon himself to sample generous portions of a number of the other dishes on offer at the restaurant that evening. While you made small-talk with the people around you and tried to ignore the persistent throbbing between your legs, he sat happily and ate. The little glances he'd shoot you every now and then told you that not only was he very much aware of the effect he was having on you, but that he felt exactly the same way as you did about what was going on.

It wasn't until he finally got to those highly-anticipated waffles of his that someone other than the girl beside you said quietly (although clearly not quietly enough) in the direction of his own seat-mate, _"Jeez—_ how much more d'you think that guy can put away?"

You snuck a look at Anakin, and he snuck one at you. Once he'd finished swallowing his most recent forkful of waffle-topped-with-chocolate-sauce, he cut in and answered for himself, "I dunno— you want to start taking bets?" There was a wry smirk on his face, along with a stray bit of syrup at the corner of his mouth. You thought he looked enchanting. 

The guy who'd asked the question went red with embarrassment; you sipped from your water glass again to try to stop yourself from laughing. He started to stammer, "I— I didn't mean— I-I mean, I wasn't trying to—"

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Ani said of the waffles, "Relax— I just _really_ love these things. You try making one yet?" Most of the table was already finished eating altogether; only a few stragglers (and, of course, your boyfriend himself) still had food on their plates. 

"Well— um, no, but—"

"You should," Anakin interrupted, gathering some more of his dessert on his fork. "I'm about to go back for another, so this might be your last chance." 

When he was met with silence, he shrugged, finished what he had in front of him, and then heaved himself up to go and get some more— to your immense surprise, he hadn't asked for your help in retrieving any of his food tonight. That, however, really only told you that he'd been particularly enthusiastic about satisfying his own gluttonous urges.

Anyway, it really didn't matter who made his waffles: You were indescribably horny by then, and more than ready to leave because of it.

...

"I should have asked for your help," said Ani, falling gracelessly onto your new, ultra-reinforced bed. 

You'd arrived home just a little while ago; upon entering the house, Anakin had opted to struggle up the stairs, and seek your assistance in getting his clothes off almost immediately. It was delightfully obvious just how tightly he'd packed his magnificently fat gut: As he maneuvered himself (it didn't come without effort) so that he was laying back with his head on the pillow, you admired the way it seemed to bounce and sway almost independently of him. You hadn't been joking when you'd told him his body was like a work of art.

"Those legs of yours must be exhausted," you observed, sitting down next to him. He had to have made a dozen trips to and from the trays of food at the buffet.

"It was worth it," he told you, turning his head to look in your direction. With a grin, "Did you see the way everyone was staring?"

"I did," you confirmed, as you started to run your hand up one of his thighs. "I almost drove myself crazy trying not to rip your shirt open and grab your tits, you know."

He placed his good hand atop his bulging stomach; gave himself a rub. "You'll tell me if anyone says anything to you on Monday, won't you?"

"I wouldn't be able to keep it to myself, and you know it. I think— hm?" You hadn't undressed yet, and you'd forgotten that your phone was still in your pocket until it buzzed. "Just a sec," you said, and you pulled it out to look at it. When you did, the message you saw pop up onto your screen was so prescient that you couldn't help but laugh.

"What is it?" he asked, craning to try to see what it said.

"The girl who manages the accounts at my work wants to know if you're 'okay'." She'd been the one sitting next to you; the one who'd been brave enough to point out just how 'different' Anakin looked these days. You wondered if she was genuinely concerned, or if she was simply curious.

"Tell her I've never been happier," he said, and with his hand still planted atop his midsection, he let his head settle back onto the pillow, closing his eyes with a smile. 

"I will— _but_ , I think I'll do it later." You set down the phone on the table beside the bed in favour of going back to touching Ani's leg. "Right now I just want to be with you." That really was true: You'd enjoyed going out, but really, the way you preferred to spend your time was exactly the way you were spending it right now. Nothing felt better than being alone with Anakin; it was part of why you looked forward to him not being able to get out of bed. 

"I feel the same way," he said, and since you were on his left side, he took his hand away from his stomach and reached out to you instead. He found the fingers of your free hand, and squeezed tightly. It was easy for you to see how much he loved you... although for some reason, tonight it just so happened to give you pause.

"...You know I'd still love you if you ever decided that this was all too much, right?" you asked. Maybe it had been your co-worker's overt concern; maybe it had been the fact that you knew you wanted Ani immobile partly because you simply wanted to have him all to yourself. Either way— although you'd been over this before— you still felt the need to ask if this truly still was what he wanted. 

He let go of your hand, opened his eyes again, and made a valiant attempt at propping himself up on his elbow. He half-succeeded, and once he was situated in a way which allowed him to stare into your eyes, he did exactly that. "What do you mean 'too much'?" he asked curiously, tilting his head. He was absolutely beautiful— from his pretty blue eyes, to the way his hair framed his face, to his endearing little double-chin. Every part of him was perfect; you'd always thought so, and you knew you always would.

"I mean," you clarified, "that if you ever decide that being this fat _isn't_ what you want, then I'll still love you. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

"Not you too," he said with a groan, although he was still smiling. "You of all people should understand how much I love being this way."

"I love you being this way, too— but I'm also saying that if you ever change your mind—"

"Come here," he interrupted, and he let himself fall back into a supine position; stretched his arm out beside himself as if to invite you to be held. You laid down beside him, and rested your head against the side of his chest. He was fleshy and warm, and he felt incredible. He asked as he put his arm around you and you settled into his embrace, "Do you remember what I was like _before_ you started feeding me?"

You let yourself travel back in time for a moment; to a time when Anakin had an athlete's body, and the temperament of a perpetual sore-loser. He used to get angry a lot, you reflected; he'd slam doors, and yell— loudly, and sometimes about nothing. The littlest things would set him off, and his bad moods could last for days on end. He'd still been sweet, of course; he couldn't have helped that if he'd tried... but the fact of the matter was that when he'd been lithe and muscular, he'd also been perennially stressed-out.

"I remember," you nodded, without feeling the need to recount the scenes you'd just replayed in your mind.

"So," he said, "don't you think this is better? I mean, I'd be lying if I told you that being this much of a fatass didn't make me horny, but it's really not _all_ about that." He held you tightly with his arm; since it was the only one he had, he continued to keep it strong beneath the irresistibly soft layers of fat you'd helped him pile atop its musculature. You'd always loved the way it felt to have him wrap you up in it. "I needed to learn to let go of shit, and in more than just one way. Handing my body over to you is the best fucking thing I've ever done for myself, and I'm _not_ going to change my mind about it."

To hear him say that so plainly made you feel indescribably happy. "I love you, Ani," you sighed contentedly, kissing his chest as you started to rub a few lazy circles into his gut, "and I can't imagine _not_ loving you." You hadn't quite realized the extent to which getting fat had helped Anakin actually enjoy being who he was. You'd always known him to struggle with his perception of himself, though... and, indeed, he seemed to possess more clarity (and positivity) with regard to his own self-image since he'd started to let you help him gain weight. "I'll never be able to thank you enough for what you've given me, and if you really are happy this way, then you don't have to worry— I'll make you as fat as we both want you to be, and I'll take care of you for as long as you need taking care of."

"That's all I want," he told you. "To belong to someone like this is all I've _ever_ wanted." He kissed the top of your head at that, and you realized that you were starting to feel a little bit overdressed.

"Let me up for a minute," you said, "and I'll get out of these stupid clothes." You hated wearing clothes around Anakin almost as much as you loved it when the two of you got to be by yourselves in bed together.

If Ani's current level of sheer happiness and comfort was any indication, you'd have the luxury of doing a lot more of precisely that in very, _very_ short time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm kind of aware of the fact that this story is a structural dumpster fire, but it's also one of my favourites, so I mean... I'm not going to go back and try to gerrymander it into a cohesive work of narrative art. It's honestly just here so I don't kill my husband trying to pour cake-batter down his throat (it's working so far, but only barely).
> 
> Thanks for the love, guys.


	19. Chocolate Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was almost entirely inspired by a wonderful person who commented on the last instalment with a magnificent idea.
> 
> Added some butt-stuff to the tags because I really love to play with this guy's hole. Fair warning, the next chapter will have lots of that following his sponge-bath, plus fun toys. Then I guess I have to start to think about maybe winding it down, but hell if I actually want to. :/

"I'm sorry, Ani— we'll have to get a new one; I just can't get this around your neck anymore."

"But I like _this_ one," Anakin pouted. "I still remember the night it came in the mail— you fed me icing and gave me a bath, remember?"

You smiled, because you certainly did. "Of course I remember, but it's still just a collar. It'll be easy enough to order you another one."

You were sitting beside Anakin on the bed right now, and you'd just attempted to fasten around his neck that lovely, velvet-lined collar the two of you enjoyed playing with so much. The only problem was that tonight, the collar didn't seem to want to co-operate— it had grown too small (or perhaps more accurately, Ani had grown too big), and the end of the leather strap simply wouldn't pull far enough through the little metal loop for you to do it up properly. There was a deep-dish chocolate mousse pie resting next to you on the bed, along with a fresh bowl of whipped cream. You'd already fed Ani his dinner (it had consisted of an entire rotisserie chicken and a carton of deliciously greasy French fries dipped in rich, dark gravy), and you were both eager for him to move onto dessert— you'd whipped the cream and baked the pie yourself (it was still warm).

"Can't you make it work just one more time? I really wanted to wear it tonight." His eyes were wide, and he was gazing between your face and the collar, which you were still holding in your hands. 

He wasn't wearing anything right now (and neither were you), but he did have the blanket on the bed pulled up over his pudgy, outstretched legs. He stayed like this nearly all of the time now; you could hardly remember the last time he'd descended the stairs to sit in the living room, or even root around in the kitchen. You loved it, and so did he— you brought him food to eat, retrieved for him anything and everything he happened to need for the purpose of working from home, and you'd very happily grown accustomed to spending your evenings feeding him and exploring his body.

The only things he ever got up for anymore, in fact, were using the bathroom and showering (he couldn't fit comfortably in the bathtub any longer, in spite of its generous size). You very much enjoyed watching his ass jiggle and his thighs rub up against one another as he waddled down the hall, but you were always grateful to have him back in bed, where he belonged. Ani looked perfect splayed out there for you, and perfectly content, too.

"...I guess I can try," you said tentatively of trying to get the collar done up in spite of the thick layer of fat padding his neck. You loved Anakin more than you'd ever loved anyone, and while you always wanted him to be happy, you also didn't want to hurt him. 

"Thank you," he grinned, lifting his natural hand to wipe away a bit of gravy he seemed to have just registered was on the side of his mouth. Dinner had been a little bit messy; he'd been very hungry, and you'd been equally enthusiastic about filling him up. It had been great fun putting the chicken drumsticks into his mouth only for the bones to come out clean, and even more exciting to stick your fingers in too, so he could suck the barbecue sauce and gravy right off of them.

"Lift your head, then," you instructed him, reaching around behind him to try to pull the newly-diminutive leather strap around his neck one more time. While you managed to keep his hair from getting caught up in it, you hit the same roadblock you'd hit before as you tried to tug its length through the loop: The little metal pin that fastened it like a belt couldn't seem to get close enough to even the first hole on the strap. 

It just didn't fit.

"Pull it tighter," he told you, head still tilted back. "You won't hurt me."

"Are you sure, Ani?" you asked. You'd tugged on his collar before, but you'd never even begun to try to do it up more tightly than it wanted to be done up.

"I'm sure— I really want to wear it while you feed me that pie." He paused before adding a bit sheepishly, "...Anyway, I think I might end up liking how it feels."

That took you by surprise; Anakin had never expressed an interest in having his neck bound before. Even so, you weren't about to deny being intrigued by the idea of feeding him while his collar happened to be just a _bit_ too tight. 

So, after a moment of consideration, you went ahead and did as he asked. With a sharp tug, you pulled the strap far enough that the pin made its way into the first of the series of tiny holes denoting the collar's adjustability. It pinched his fat tightly; so much so that it spilled over the top and bulged out the bottom... but, it was fastened exactly the way he wanted it to be.

You heard his breathing hitch as you took your hands away from his neck; for a moment it made you worry, but the smile on his face as he lowered his head told you that you didn't need to.

"That's... _perfect,"_ he told you haltingly, and then you saw his eyes travel over to the pie— the pie, and the whipped cream. You knew he was more than ready to start eating dessert, and so you picked it up from the bed, but not before spooning an indulgent amount of thick, fluffy cream over the top of it. You'd already cut it into slices, because you hadn't wanted to use a fork: You absolutely adored having Anakin eat out of your hand.

"Here you go," you said, lifting the first portion out of the pan with the aid of the spoon you'd used to spread the topping. Since the chocolate was still warm, it dripped a little bit on its way to his mouth; he wound up with a few globs of dark, sweet filling on his belly. It looked divine with his stretch-marks; he was so big that his gut covered most of his lap now. You knew that if you were to lift it up and reach into his fat-pad, you'd find him hard and wet. 

He took most of the first slice in a single bite, which ensured that some of it got smeared on the side of his mouth. You watched him with a mixture of excitement and curiosity as he chewed; you weren't sure how he'd fare as far as swallowing was concerned. He certainly managed, though; squeezed his eyes shut and forced it down with a hard gulp. When he looked at you expectantly afterwards, you knew that meant he wanted more— and so more was what you gave him.

"How does that feel?" you asked, after popping the flaky, buttery crust into his mouth and watching the tightly-bound fat under his chin and on his neck move as he swallowed.

"It's _incredible_ ," he breathed. After clearing his throat as best he could, he asked you, "How long do you think it'll take for the new one to get this tight?" His voice had taken on a distinct rasp, but he looked delighted by his predicament.

"It's all up to you, isn't it?" you asked, retrieving the next slice and holding it up to his eager, chocolate-stained lips. "If you eat for me like a good boy, it shouldn't take very long at all."

Running your free hand down the side of his body made you throb. You'd felt consumed by his fat before, and since he'd stopped getting out of bed nearly altogether, it was beginning to appear that he was becoming consumed by it, too. His sides bulged, and his tits rested heavily on his gut; he even had stretch-marks snaking their way onto his body from underneath his arms, now. There was a huge and delightful roll of flesh there too; you liked to wiggle your finger beneath the fold and trace it all the way around to his back. 

He finished off that second piece of pie in little time; once he was done with it, he placed his cybernetic hand next to his belly and poked at it with a sleek, black-and-silver index finger. You'd never tire of the contrast between his prosthetic hand and the rest of his ever-expanding body.

"All I _want_ to do is sit here and eat for you," he said. "You take such good care of me that I'll be too big to wear much of anything at all before we know it." 

That thrilled you to hear; you loved that Anakin's weight gain was accelerating so quickly now that he was essentially bound to the bed by his size. You thought about how much work you'd both put into this; about how much you'd longed for it, and everything you'd done together to achieve it. Every single morsel of food you'd forced past his lips seemed to have made your relationship better, not to mention the improvement you'd observed in his overall disposition. Ani was happy this way; with himself, and with you too— and you couldn't possibly have been more pleased to be with him now that he was nearly fat enough to take up most of your bed.

You went on feeding him his dessert; by the time it was nearly gone, his face and belly (along with your hand) were covered in both chocolate and little flakes of crust. There was still half a bowl of whipped cream left, and when you asked him if he wanted that too, he nodded emphatically— which, of course, he felt sharply as his collar dug into him even further with the motion.

You cooed kind words about what a good boy he was as you spooned the remainder of the topping into his mouth for him, and when it was all gone you found you couldn't help yourself any longer: After discarding the dishes to the floor beside the bed, you leaned in closely and started to bite at the fat that was poking out from around where his collar was binding his neck. You started off gently; however, when he moaned and shifted to indicate his approval, you sank your teeth right into his flesh and sucked hard. You wanted to leave marks on him; it didn't matter how badly-bruised his skin was when you were finished, because nobody except for the two of you was ever going to see it. 

"Do you like that?" you asked, despite knowing very well that the answer was going to be 'yes'.

"I love it," he confirmed for you, as you crawled up to drape yourself over his belly and lick the marks you'd left with your teeth.

He took in a breath, but the tightness of the collar made it catch in his throat. "Let's get that blanket off of you," you said, because to your own surprise, you were enjoying this just as much as he seemed to be. After that, you went ahead and kicked the covers away. Using one of your hands, you pushed his belly up; with the other, you reached deep inside the soft mound of fat hiding most of his dick, only to find that it was just as hard and wet as you'd expected it to be.

"Lay back for me," you said, and you shifted along with him as he obeyed your order. 

Moving around, of course, was always an effort for Anakin these days: Even his brief trips down the hall left him winded; often, he would request your assistance when it came time for him to make his way back to the bed. You could hear his respiration pick up its pace as he shimmied himself onto his back and down the mattress, and this time— thanks to his tiny collar— his heavy breathing was accompanied by a strangled-sounding wheeze.

"Are you alright, Ani?" you asked him, and when he made a noise indicating an affirmative answer, your hand went right back between his legs. "You're soaked," you observed next, admiring the glistening head of his cock now that he had assumed a position that allowed it to stand out a bit for you. Anakin had always had a gorgeous dick, but you loved it even more now that it was almost completely buried by your overindulgence of his appetite. You revelled in how wet that cock-tunnel of his tended to get, and you couldn't get enough of pushing and prodding at his fat in your attempts to get your hand around the hard-ons he got from being fed. His tip was pink, wet, and perfect; you fingered each and every little vein and ridge along his shaft as you dug your hand as far into him as you could.

You asked him to open up his legs for you. His thighs were enormous by now, and he'd developed sweet little rolls on the backs of his knees which became evident as he bent them to aid himself in spreading them wide for you. You kept on prodding at his dick while you used your free hand to knead the inside of his leg. You couldn't get enough of how soft he was, and every time you noticed his having grown larger, you were nearly overcome by an irrepressible need to squeeze him. He liked for you to dig your nails right in, so you did that too, prior to sneaking your hand up behind his balls. Even more than feeling your nails pinch him, he loved it when you'd stroke the skin between his sack and his hole.

You moved to get in between his newly-opened legs at that point, and started to trace lines around his tip while you teased his ass. Your fingers looked magnificent coated in food and buried between his cheeks; he was so fat that you'd have had to have him prop himself up on his hand and knees to see what you were poking at. 

He whined and tried to buck his hips, but he was too full; he couldn't seem to force himself up off of the bed. That was fine with you, because it meant you could do whatever you wanted to do with him. As you pushed your finger deep inside of him, you leaned down and began to tongue the flesh surrounding his cock. He'd leaked all over himself; you could feel him on your chin, and on your nose too as you took his head between your lips and pushed your face into his fat-pad to get as much of his hard-on as you could into your mouth. It was a lot more difficult than it used to be, even from this position, but you appreciated the challenge.

Now that the hand you weren't using to probe his asshole was free, you raised it to give his belly a rub. That only served to spread around the globs of chocolate that had dripped onto his skin as he'd eaten his dessert. "You're so _messy_ ," you praised him, extracting your face briefly from between his thighs. You looked up, but when you did, all you could see was the underside of his stomach. He had so many stretch-marks, you noted; more than you could ever remember him having. As far as you were concerned, it still wasn't enough.

"Please don't stop," he begged, as his legs trembled. 

"Do you have something to feed _me_ now?" you asked coyly, before going back to work on his hard-on.

He answered you with a moan, and then a whimper as you sealed your lips around the ridge at the bottom of his tip again. You sucked hard, drawing him further into your mouth than his fat wanted to allow; at the same time, you curled up your finger to stroke him from the inside. That made him pulse and leak some more, but when he did, you took your face away from his cock again.

He coughed first, and then he groaned. He tried to reach down with his hand; perhaps to touch himself, or perhaps to try to force your head back down; however, it didn't work— he was too full to move very well; besides that, his gut was in the way.

"Just having a bit of extra fun," you excused yourself, before taking a moment to blow some cool air onto his head. He whined again, and because you loved him you couldn't help but take pity by enveloping him once more. For good measure, you forced an extra finger into his hole and wiggled it around as you kept on petting the inside of his ass. You used the hand that had been stroking his belly to tease his navel; it was deeper and softer than it had ever been. For a moment, you thought back to the last time he'd had to put a shirt on; the divot created by his belly-button had been explicitly visible through the fabric. You hadn't been able to stop staring.

He cursed suddenly and loudly, and clasped his hand tightly over yours on his gut, pushing it into his own pillowy softness while he exploded into your mouth as heartily as he ever had. You pressed your nose into his fat and took what he had to offer you eagerly; he tasted even better than what you liked to feed him. Anakin always tasted better than just about anything, really. 

You kept on sucking until he didn't have anything left, and then carefully withdrew your fingers from his ass. After taking one more look at the sheer beauty of his thick, dimpled thighs on either side of you, you crawled right up on top of his belly. He grunted as you took one of his tits in each of your hands and squeezed them firmly. You loved being draped over Anakin like this; you could feel how soft he was, along with just how much you'd stuffed him. 

"If heaven exists," you told him, "it feels like laying on top of you."

Instead of answering that, he pulled his hand out from between the two of you to tug on his collar, even though he could barely get a finger beneath it for how tight it was. You'd almost forgotten he'd been wearing it— and he looked even more red in the face than he usually did once you were finished making him go off.

"Oh!" you exclaimed. "Sorry, Ani!"

Hastily, you started to fiddle with the strap; it was almost as difficult to unfasten as it had been to get around his neck to begin with. When you finally got it undone, you let the ends fall to the bed as his reddened, bruised neck bounced back to its usual shape. Then, you moved to touch his face. He took as deep a breath as he'd taken since you'd put it on him in the first place, and lay there panting while you stroked and kissed him. 

Once his colour had returned to normal (or, as close to 'normal' as it was going to get right now), he grinned— much to your relief. "That was _perfect_ ," he gasped. "Are you _sure_ we have to get a new collar?"

You laughed. "If you plan on getting any bigger, I think it might be a good idea— even if you do like it a little too tight, I think this one might be on its last legs." That was true; a few more pounds, and you might not be able to get it done up at all, no matter how hard you tugged on the end of the strap.

"I definitely plan on getting bigger," he assured you. "I just don't think I can go without you doing that again." He paused. "...You _will_ do that again for me, won't you?" 

"If that's what you want. You know I'd do anything for you, right?" Smiling, you rested your head between his tits, and closed your eyes. You began to run your fingers through his hair.

"I want it," he said, placing his arm around you as you continued to lay on his belly, moving languidly up and down with his breathing. "As soon as I realized that collar was too small, I knew I wanted you to put it on me anyway."

"You never stop surprising me," you murmured, happily taking comfort in the warmth of his skin. "You want me to clean you up a bit?" You knew he was still messy; not only with chocolate and gravy, but with the remnants of his own enthusiasm, too. You weren't about to let him suffer dragging himself all the way to the shower if you didn't have to.

"Not yet— right now, I just want to hold you. Would that be okay?" He tightened his arm around you, squeezing you tightly against himself.

"Of course it would be okay, Ani," you said, continuing to play with his hair.

"I love you," he whispered, and he sounded incredibly tired. That was just fine with you; he was both full and satisfied, and he'd made you happy enough tonight that he more than deserved a bit of rest.

As you kissed his chest you reminded him, "I love you too." Then, _"Thank you."_

You were glad he already knew just how you felt about him, because by then Anakin had fallen fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had mostly all of last week off work (hence my... um, posting behaviour) & now it feels like I'm walking around in a slaughterhouse today, so this was helpful. God help you all if I ever lose my job, though.
> 
> I'm having lunch right now. This is what I do with my lunch.


End file.
